


Anywhere But Here

by QuirkyNeon (iforgetlikeanelephant)



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Generation Kill, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Asexual Bucky Barnes, Changing POV, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Disabled Character, Explicit Language, Frank discussions of mental health issues, Gen, Hospital, Injured Character, Lesbian Natasha Romanov, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marijuana, Marine Corps vet Bucky, Mention of attempted suicide, Multi, Natasha is a bamf and no one's clearance is high enough to know about it, Oral Sex, Queer Characters, Surgery, The VA coffee is the worst, and Steve's cookies are the best, coffee shop AU, everyone's a veteran au, pastry baker Steve Rogers, polyamorous character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-17 16:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 126,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12369648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iforgetlikeanelephant/pseuds/QuirkyNeon
Summary: James Buchanan Barnes was just trying to get through his reintegration to civilian life without becoming Bubble Boy, or a recluse, or some weird combination of the two. But then Josh Ray Person blows into his life at a VA support meeting with his stupid Elvis sunglasses and penchant for saying what he’s thinking without processing it first and drags him, kicking and screaming, out of his shell.Josh Ray Person was a lonely mess before he dragged himself to that VA support meeting. His boyfriend was in freakin’ England and the people he kept in contact with were too far to see every day so he was stuck in a loop of home-therapy-home-therapy-home-weed dealer-home until he forced himself to get out, go to the VA meeting his therapist had kept hinting at. When he meets James,Bucky, it’s like a breath of fresh air, a newprojectso he latches onto him like a grabby octopus and makes him his new best friend.Together they’re just trying to make it through the weirdness that is civilian life, one cup of coffee at a time.





	1. It Starts *in the voice of Timon from the Lion King video game*

**Author's Note:**

> Well friends, this is it, my opus, my big one, the love of my life that I hope you all like too. 
> 
> a few notes on what things mean, for all you non-Generation Kill fans:
> 
> Whiskey-Tango: military phonetics for white trash
> 
> Ripped Fuel: high grade diet pills that were ~technically~ against protocol to down yet Ray here downed them like a champ (hell of an energy boost)
> 
> (I'll add things as I continue to edit through this I'm sure)
> 
> Special shoutout to Kitty and Noe for not only being my cheerleaders but also for being the willing guinea pigs that read this first. I love you both!

Bucky is used to being the odd one out during the VA meetings, hiding behind a shitty cup of coffee and barely speaking even when spoken to, but he’s pretty sure that this new guy who’s hovering even more awkwardly than Bucky did his first day takes the cake. First, the guy is wearing the ugliest pair of sunglasses that Bucky’s ever seen, and second, he’s twitchy as hell, bouncing on the balls of his feet and twisting his hands in front of him. Bucky almost feels bad for the guy, but not bad enough to talk to him. 

 

Sam Wilson, the Paratrooper who took over the meetings two months ago from the Infantryman that had been running them since Bucky started coming five months before, steps up to the podium in front of the sea of chairs and veterans in the room. “Welcome everyone, if you haven’t already go ahead and get some refreshments before we start in a few minutes,” he says, looking around the room and Bucky can see his eyes catch on the new guy. 

 

Bucky gets up from his chair in the back to get another cup of coffee before the meeting starts, and has to walk past the new guy standing in the door. He can feel the new guy track him, and isn’t surprised when he hears footsteps following him to the refreshments table. “Those are the ugliest glasses I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” Bucky says, without looking over his shoulder as he pours his second cup of coffee. 

 

“Yeah? Well at least I have both of my fuckin’ arms,” The new guy snarks, causing Bucky to actually turn around and look at him. 

 

Bucky lets out a humorless laugh. “At least I’m not a whiskey-tango fuck up that’s high on Ripped Fuel and wearing styleless civvies,” he sips at his coffee and takes a step back away from the refreshments table, leaving enough room for the twitchy guy to grab a cookie and his own cup of coffee. 

 

“Fuckin’ hell,” The new guy groans, “You a Marine? You seem the type.”

 

“What, I look like a fuckin’ idiot? But yeah, I am. Was. 15th Expeditionary Unit,” Bucky answers, rolling his eyes as the other guy shoves a second cookie in his mouth. 

 

“First boots on the ground in Afghanistan, huh? That’s fuckin’ neat-o,” the new guy mumbles around crumbs, “I’m Corporal Person, or uh Ray I guess. Well, really it’s Josh, but only my ma’ calls me that.”  

 

“I’m Lieutenant Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky. Everyone else calls me James,” Bucky answers, nodding and not bothering to shake Ray’s hand as the still twitchy man grabs more cookies off the table.   

 

Ray finally stops grabbing at cookies and pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, his eyes surrounded by circles so dark it looks like he’s been punched. “I’m not actually high on Ripped Fuel, I’m detoxing,” he offers up, wiping at his face before he takes a sip of his newly poured coffee.

 

“That’s almost worse. Also,” Bucky pauses as Ray makes a face, sticking his tongue out in a grimace, “This coffee is the only thing that’s worse than the mental help from the good ol’ US Military.”

 

“Jesus, I’ve tasted ass that was better than this,” Ray complains even as he takes another sip. 

 

Bucky barks out a laugh, nearly choking on his own coffee and missing the eyes of the veterans that are trickling in gazing at him in confusion as none of them had heard him laugh before. “Of course ass tastes better than this, you actually get something from eating ass. All you get from this coffee is the shits,” he says, getting his own laugh from Ray. 

 

“Oh shit homes, I’m not supposed to tell am I?” Ray says, suddenly shifty as he looks down into his cup. 

 

“Well, I’m not asking you as long as you don’t ask me,” Bucky replies, reaching out to punch Ray’s shoulder. “Besides,” he starts as Ray quickly looks up with a grin, “We’re vets, not a damn thing they can do about it now.”

 

Ray looks like he’s about to say something more as Sam steps up to the podium again, Bucky can only just see him out of the corner of his eye. “Alright guys and gals, let’s get this meeting started. I can see a few new faces in the crowd so we’re gonna go ‘round and introduce ourselves, as little or as much information as you want. Remember: no one is here to judge you,” Sam says as the vets in the room settle down, Ray and Bucky finding seats on the edge of the group near the back with their cups of coffee. 

 

The introductions move slow, some vets telling their whole stories and some just telling their names. When it gets to Bucky he surprises everyone, including himself, when he actually gives more than just his name. “I’m Bucky, uh, I was a Marine. And now I’m not. Which has something to do with this if I had to guess,” he ends his sentence with a gesture to the empty sleeve hanging at his left side. 

 

After Bucky sits down Ray shoots up, bouncing on his toes as he does his own introduction. “I’m Ray. Like my good pal Bucky said, I’m a Marine, and as you can see,” he waves his left arm around, “This isn’t why I’m not a Marine anymore. I was one of the first boots on the ground in Mesopotamia and I’ve seen what war does. That’s why I’m not a Marine anymore.” Ray drops back down into his seat and then shoots back up saying, “Oh yeah, and I’m queer,” before dropping down again, the rest of the vets shifting slightly in discomfort. 

 

“Well,” Sam laughs as he steps back up to the microphone, “I guess none of us asked at least.” That gets a few laughs, and Bucky shifts slightly to knock his shoulder against Ray’s while he laughs as well. 

 

“Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t say I sucked my Sargent’s cock, huh?” Ray mumbles under his breath, causing Bucky to laugh and try to cover it up with a coughing fit into his hand.

 

“Definitely a good thing,” Bucky manages to choke out, still covering his mouth with his hand.

 

The rest of the meeting goes on without incident. Sam talks about coping mechanisms and nightmares and disabilities and listens to the other veterans talk about their issues with the VA system as well as issues outside of the VA. He’s a good listener, and always seems to have an answer, and even if he doesn’t he can find you someone who does. All of the counselors that Bucky had dealt with in the past had been awful, only half listening most of the time, but Sam is different, which is one of the reasons that he’s continued to come to the VA for these meetings even though he hasn’t actually spoken up much.

 

“So, guess a bunch of vets are uncomfortable with the word queer,” Ray says after Sam ends the meeting, encouraging the vets to come back the next week and to ‘please finish the cookies and coffee, if you don’t I end up taking them home and I don’t want VA coffee for another week in my apartment’. 

 

Bucky shrugs, “They’re probably just worried that you’re gonna be queer on them,” he replies as the two of them stand up.

 

“That doesn’t even—” Ray is cut off by a voice at the front of the room.

 

“Bucky, Ray,” Sam says from across the room, waving them over toward the front of the room.

 

“How rude would it be if we pretended not to see him?” Bucky asks under his breath when he glances over at Sam.

 

“Well you just made direct fucking eye contact with him so very, asshole,” Ray responds just as quietly as the two of them walk toward Sam, Bucky on edge slightly at the look on Sam’s face.

 

Sam waits until they’re standing in front of him before he speaks. “I just wanted to thank you for being so candid, Ray, it was a breath of fresh air in a room where some of the vets like to not talk,”  his gaze travels over to Bucky as he continues, “And I wanted to thank _you_ for finally speaking up, I know how hard it can be.”

 

“It’s not like I never spoke,” Bucky mumbles, “I just felt bad for the twitchy fuckin’ new guy.”

 

“You…never acknowledged what branch you served with or the fact that you’re down a limb even though it’s very visible,” Same points out, “You weren’t exactly an open book, buddy.”

 

Ray laughs, “Homes, did you think they couldn’t tell you’re missing a fucking arm? That’s hilarious!”

 

“I’m not exactly a people person,” Bucky admits, “And the only reason I really spoke up today is because my therapist said that I needed to try and be more social. He wanted me to go to a bar but I managed to talk him down to me just…..introducing myself at today’s meeting.”

 

“Well, whatever the reason I hope it continues,” Sam says with a smile as he shoulders his bag. “Now,” he says, nodding toward the back of the room where the snack table is, “Please, take some fucking cookies home.”

 

“Fuck yeah, homes, those chocolate chip ones are the bomb. Where’d ya get ‘em?” Ray asks as he, Sam, and Bucky walk toward the back of the room, and the exit, together. 

 

Sam laughs as they reach the table and Ray grabs two handfuls of cookies. “They’re made by a friend of mine, he and another friend co-own this coffee shop slash bakery that caters to a more…veteran clientele,” he answers as Bucky grabs a cookie for himself and nearly groans in pleasure when he takes a bite. The cookies really are good. 

 

“Where is this coffee shop? I need to fucking go like, yesterday, homes,” Ray asks before he shoves one cookie in his mouth and tries to balance two more in his hands. “And if I say I know you can I get my cookies for free?”

 

Sam shakes his head. “I think he honestly would give you free cookies if you said you know me, which is why Natasha doesn’t let him run the register. She will definitely _not_ give you cookies for free just because you know me, in fact she might charge you more just because you tried it. They’re both vets as well, but uh, the disenchanted kind. The coffee shop is more of a haven for anti-war vets and vets that don’t think they can handle going home just yet. They’ve got a couple of couches that are pretty much a revolving door for guys and gals just coming home,” he explains, hesitant to bring up the anti-war aspect of the coffee shop but knowing that it could be make or break for someone as fresh out of service as Ray seems to be. 

 

“Anti-war vets? Sign me the fuck up, man. The ROE over in Iraq was fucking _bullshit_ , you know it and I know it. Well, maybe you don’t know it, I don’t know where the fuck you served. All I know is some Iraqi kids got fucking blasted because they were playing on top of a tank and according to ROE they were armed, like? Are you fucking kidding me? Military intelligence is a fucking oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one,” Ray rails around a mouthful of crumbs, cutting himself off when he sees that Bucky and Sam’s eyes have widened. He coughs and swallows the cookie in his mouth before he finishes, “Anyway, yeah, I’m anti-war because when you leave the Marine Corps you get your fucking brain back.”

 

“Ain’t that the goddamn truth,” Bucky snorts, grabbing another cookie as he had finished the other one while Ray was talking. 

 

“Well, since you don’t _seem_ like you want the name of the place just to blow it up, it’s off of Carmelo Drive and Harbor Drive, it’s where there used to be some fishing supply store? Even now sometimes if it gets too hot the place smells funky, if I’m honest. It’s like right off the 5. It’s called Mainside Java,” Sam says, grabbing a few cookies for himself before Ray can take them all. “Steve went through a whole fuckin’ military slang book to find a name for the place and that’s what he came up with,” He says around a mouthful of cookie, causing Ray to laugh out loud and Bucky to roll his eyes. 

 

Through his laughter, Ray manages to say, “That sounds like some dumb fuck Army shit if I’ve ever heard it.”

 

“Steve was actually, uh, Special Forces. He won’t say where, or what, but I know enough to know that he was discharged as a Captain. Which is more than I know about Natasha,” Sam admits, shrugging as he finishes his cookie, “All I know about her is that I’m pretty sure she could kill me without even thinking about it twice and I’ve fucking slept with her.”

 

“That’s terrifying and I don’t even know her,” Bucky says, eyeing the last few cookies on the table and then deciding against grabbing another one. 

 

“It’s terrifying and I _do_ know her,” Sam laughs. “Now we’ve got to get out of here before the next group comes in. I doubt you’d want to talk to yet another group of vets when you barely wanted to talk to the group you’ve been coming to for two months,” He nudges Bucky slightly with his elbow as he finishes speaking. 

 

“Seven months, actually, I was coming for like five months before you took over from that big Infantry motherfucker, with the face tattoo,” Bucky admits as he tucks his hand into the pocket of his hoodie. 

 

“Wait!” Ray yelps, “The last guy had a face tattoo? Sam, you should get a face tattoo, holy fuck, homes, you’ve got to do it.”

 

“My mother would slap the shit out of me,” Sam says, shaking his head as he places the remaining cookies, mostly peanut butter, into a bakery bag that he pulled out from under the table. “I’m just leaving the coffee for the next group,” He grimaces as he looks at the carafe of, by now, cold sludge the VA calls coffee.

 

Ray shrugs and the three of them walk out of the room together, Sam first followed by Ray and then Bucky. “All I know is that Fruity Rudy somehow managed to make better coffee in the middle of the goddamn Iraq desert than any of the VA hospitals or meeting rooms in this shit hole have to offer,” Ray says, laughing slightly and shaking his head as he says, “He also managed to make some _sweeeet_ November Juliet.”

 

“You fucking white boys and your November Juliet in the middle of a goddamn war zone,” Sam rolls his eyes before he punches lightly at first Ray and then Bucky’s shoulders. “I’m usually at Mainside Java when I’m not here, trying to get through paperwork, so I’ll keep an eye out for the two of you. And I’ll see you next week?” He looks between Ray and Bucky, getting a nod from the both of them.

 

“Hell yeah, homes, keep bringing cookies like this and I’d meet your goddamn ma’ if you asked,” Ray grins, waving as Sam turns on his heel and walks down the hallway in the opposite direction of the VA exit, in the direction of which Bucky assumes is his office. “So anyway,” Ray says, turning to look at Bucky, “I’m gonna need your phone number because I’m gonna make your therapist shit himself.”

 

“I’m sure he has control over his bowels enough that he won’t shit himself just because I made a friend,” Bucky laughs, shaking his head as he eases his hand out of his pocket, his phone in hand.

 

Ray grins at him and grabs Bucky’s phone before shoving his own into Bucky’s hand. “Hell yeah we’re friends, homes. I need more queer people in my life,” He says the last part more quietly than the first, not sure how comfortable Bucky is with being outed. 

 

“I am hella queer,” Bucky agree, raising his voice just enough that Ray’s grin grows, making the man look like more demented than anything else, as Bucky hands him back his phone.

 

“Yeah you are,” Ray throws a fist into the air, the one holding his own phone and says, “Here and queer, homes!” He hand Bucky back his phone and says, “Don’t mind me if I send a dick pic or five your way.”

 

“Oh Lord, please don’t,” Bucky laughs, pocketing his phone, “I’m uh, queer in more than one way, and that other way is that I’m like…super not into sex.”

 

“So like….if you’re not into sex….” Ray pauses, “Did you ever, ya know, jack it. Combat style.”

 

Bucky nearly doubles over in laughter. “You just…asked….oh my God, bro. But yes, I did do a combat jack or two. Who doesn’t?” He answers, trying to will his cheeks away from turning pink with embarrassment. 

 

“Fucking _me_ dude, my one and only attempt at a fucking combat jack was fucking _ruined_ by some goddamn idiots that thought we were being overrun by one hundred and forty goddamn enemy tanks and would you like to know what happened? Fucking _nothing_ because it was a fucking town! It was a town that was like 40 klicks out! Thank God Iceman was there to fucking realize it or else we’d have been strapped to the motherfucking gills and it _wouldn’t have been needed_ ,” Ray complains loudly, and Bucky is nearly doubled over again, laughing at his new friend’s misfortune. 

 

Bucky pauses in his laughter to say, “Wait, didn’t you say that you sucked your Sergeant’s dick?”

 

“Yeah man, but that wasn’t during combat that was during fucking Libo,” Ray nearly whines, “Oh, and before we went out to Iraq…we were technically on base though so…maybe that counts.” Ray’s whine turns into an audible smile as he tucks his own phone into his pocket. 

 

“I don’t think it counts, but I’m gonna let you pretend it does,” Bucky laughs before he realizes, “Hey, I don’t think you said what unit you were with?”

 

“Oh shit homes, you’re right,” Ray laughs, “I was with 1st Recon, 2nd Platoon. Best damn RTO in the Corps.”

 

Bucky tilts his head while he thinks back to that battalion and, “Wait,” he pauses, looking at Ray in a new light, “You worked with the fucking Iceman? Are you shitting me? And he didn’t try to kill you for being so goddamn twitchy?”

 

“My guy,” Ray smirks, “Iceman was my Sergeant.”

 

Bucky’s eyes widen. “There’s no fucking way you sucked the Iceman’s dick,” He says, shock making him blink quickly even as he keep his voice low, though he really wants to scream.

 

“Well he certainly wasn’t the Iceman when his cock was in my mouth, homes, but yeah, I did. We kind of uh, had….have? A Thing, but Brad’s a career man through and through, so it’s not like anything can be done about it anyway,” Ray mumbles, for the first time looking bothered by what he’s saying. 

 

“Well,” Bucky starts, stopping because he doesn’t know what to say as he reaches out and places his hand on Ray’s shoulder, “Men suck, Marines suck, and men in the Marines are the worst fucking assholes in the world, so maybe it’s better if it’s quiet. You don’t want people to know that you’re fucking around with some dirty ass Devil Dog that’s jumped ship to train with the British anyway.”

 

Ray throws his head back and laughs, “Homes, you don’t know how nice it is to hear that. Honestly, it sucks that most of my friends are in the fucking service still, I can’t talk to them about this shit. And even if I could I don’t know if I would because, bro, feelings are for pussies. Can you imagine if I went to LT, the only dude that actually left the fucking service, just to complain that Brad _doesn’t give me enough attention_ , like? He would probably laugh, right after he made that weird face, you know the one people make when you first come out to them and they’re trying not to call you a fag?”

 

Bucky grimaces and nods, “Yeah, I know that look well, man.”

 

“It’s the fuckin’ worst, homes,” Ray says, “And anyway, even if I did tell Nate, uh LT, it could be worse than that, he could—” he stops and grimaces, “—want me to actually talk about my feelings.”

 

“Fuck feelings,” Bucky agrees, “I’ll never make you talk about your feelings because my ability to care about other people’s feelings was stored in my left arm and well, as you pointed out earlier, I’ve only got one fucking arm.”

 

“That was hella rude of me, homes,” Ray says, the closest he’ll come to an apology.

 

Bucky snorts and finally drops his hand from Ray’s shoulder, “What else is to be expected from a whiskey-tango fuck like you.”

 

Ray winks at Bucky as he slips his sunglasses off of the top of his head and down onto his nose. “I need a fucking smoke, and to go back to the condo and un-fucking-pack,” Ray says, tilting his head toward the front doors of the VA and shoving his hands into his pockets as Bucky nods his head, the two of them walking out of the large building. 

 

“I don’t know how much help I would be unpacking,” Bucky says as Ray holds the door open for him, “But I can definitely bring pizza and help you like, organize your bookshelves or whatever. I’m great at organizing.”

 

“I’m gonna take a raincheck on that one, buddy. I’m gonna milk this new friendship thing for all it’s worth and that means I’m gonna make you hangout with me tomorrow, which is when you can bring the pizza,” Ray says around the cigarette he’s just put between his lips, he offers Bucky one and Bucky shakes his head in the negative, “And I have some tree that I’ll share if that’s something you’re in to.”

 

“I’m absolutely into tree,” Bucky says with a laugh as Ray lights his own cigarette, “Though I don’t think I’ve called it that since I was thirteen.”

 

“Don’t drag me down, homes, tree makes it sound so _nice_ ,” Ray says, trying to blow a smoke ring but failing miserably, “And anyway, what the hell would you want me to call it?”

 

“Weed? Like any other adult?” Bucky points out, waving a hand in front of his face to get Ray’s smoke away from him, “Cigarettes will kill you, man.”

 

“If the goddamn Hajis in Iraq couldn’t kill me I don’t think cigarettes are going to kill me any time soon, homes,” Ray says, taking another drag and pointedly blowing it in Bucky’s face, snorting when Bucky’s annoyed look turns to a pointed glare.

 

Bucky narrows his eyes as he says, “Just because I only have one arm doesn’t mean I can’t beat the shit out of you, Devil Dog.”

 

“If Iceman himself couldn’t get the balls to punch me out I don’t think you will,” Ray points out even as he blows the smoke away from Bucky this time, not pushing his luck.

 

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Yeah well, you’re also not sucking my dick, so I’ve really got nothing to lose if I punch you in the face,” he says, shrugging and tucking his hand into the pocket of his hoodie again, the slight damp chill in the air making him feel like shivering. 

 

Ray makes a vague sound of agreement in the back of his throat and smokes nearly to the filter before he speaks again, Bucky enjoying the silence. “So,” Ray begins, “I know you said you’re not going to make me talk about my feelings but…I just wanted to thank you for uh, insulting me I guess? And breaking the ice because you seem super cool and I’m very, well, I’m fresh out and my squad got sent back overseas so I know like, no one here. But I couldn’t stay back home. So. Thanks.” Ray coughs slightly and tosses his cigarette butt on the ground, stepping on it as he avoids eye contact.

 

“I know I said my ability to care was in my left arm but that’s not entirely true, so you’re welcome. I couldn’t let some whiskey-tango fuck come in and take my dark and mysterious label away from me just because he’s the new guy.” It’s then Bucky’s turn to avoid eye contact as he continues, “And I uh, I don’t have many friends either. None that don’t look at me with pity in their eyes when they see my empty sleeve at least.”

 

“Well aren’t we a perfect fucked up pair?” Ray laughs as he bends down and picks up the cigarette butt he tossed down, thinking better of littering as he tosses it into a trashcan a few feet away. 

 

After that they part ways, Bucky walking toward the parking lot that’s located behind the VA building and Ray headed toward the shopping center down the street where he left his car, the pair waving over their shoulders as Bucky says, loud enough to be heard by Ray, “I’ll text you later!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get to know more about Ray. Probably _too_ much.

When Ray gets to his car, he’s jittery again, the sugar from the cookies not helping in that aspect, and his hands shake while he tries to unlock his door. “ _Chill, homes_ ,” he mumbles to himself as he manages to finally get into his car, feeling suspicious as he sinks down into the driver’s seat of his beat up old Acura, the one he’s had since before he joined up. He had gone back to Missouri as soon as he had decided not to re-up, taking the month of Libo they’d been gifted with to go home, but staying in his mother’s house again was stifling. Which is how he found himself packing up his childhood room halfway through it and driving back west with his car packed tight and his mother crying behind him. He couldn’t find it in himself to care much about how she felt when all he felt was _too much_ and _not enough_. 

 

On the drive back to the condo he’s living in — which technically belongs to Brad but he’s in England so it’s not like he needs it — Ray cranks up the radio as loud as he can stand and finds the one station that’s playing country music, enjoying singing along to songs that Brad would snap at him for even humming. While driving to Brad’s home. Well, their home really, which if he thinks about that for too long it makes his stomach flutter and his heart to do that weird thing that it did the first time he woke up next to Brad, on an actual mattress and neither of them needing to rush off to anywhere. He can almost hear his mother saying, “Well that’s what _love_ feels like, Joshua,” as he turns up the radio even more, keeping his eyes on the road in front of him because even after a few weeks in California, the drivers around him still put him on edge, especially on the highway. 

 

He manages to make it back to the condo with only one road rage incident, his shoulders and back tense as he makes his way to the front door, still not able to park in the garage for all the boxes he still has to unpack. He didn’t mean for his stay in Brad’s place to be permanent, but once Brad told him he was going to England he couldn’t actually find a reason not to stay, and Brad wouldn’t hear talk about him leaving, even promising to send some pay back stateside to help with the rent. So really, Ray would have been stupid to turn down the offer. It helped that Brad fucked him slowly and had him on edge for what felt like hours until he finally gave in and snapped, “Fucking _fine_ , asshole, I’ll live in your fucking house while you’re not fucking here, now will you _please_ _just move_.”

 

“Only if you’ll admit it’s _our_ fucking house, _asshole_ ,” Brad had replied, twisting his hips just _so_ and making Ray’s back arch off the bed as his nails dug even deeper into Brad’s shoulders. 

 

“Fine, _fine_ ,” Ray gasped, his cheeks red as he mumbles out, “I’ll live in _our house,_ just fuck me like you mean it now, please.”

 

Ray’s cheeks heat once again with the memory of the night that Brad had asked him to move in, officially, so that he couldn’t claim to be couch surfing any more, as he opens the front door to a house that still has the vague smell of desert sand and post PT sweat. Ray knows he should clean, and maybe air out the place, but the smell helps him feel less alone which is, when he says it out loud, the dumbest thing he’s ever heard and he immediately goes to open a window in the living room. _Maybe I should get a dog_ , he thinks as he’s wrestling the window open and his mind immediately flashes to Trombley asking Brad to shoot the wild dogs out in Iraq, _or maybe a cat_. 

 

He takes his phone out of his pocket and is dialing without thinking. “LT, I’m thinking about getting a cat,” He says into the phone when Nate answers. 

 

“It’s Captain now,” Nate replies, his tone sounding amused, “Is California not treating you right? Can’t get pussy on your own so you have to go and buy it?”

 

“Such language,” Ray laughs, shaking his head and not bothering to hide his smile because it’s nice to hear a friendly voice, “And I heard, congrats. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop calling you LT though, you retired buddy, you should take what you can get.”

 

“And is that what you’re doing? Taking what you can get?” 

 

Ray feels like it’s a question that runs deeper than anything having to do with the purchase of a cat so he flounders for something to say for a moment before finally settling on, “I went to a uh, group therapy thing down at the VA today.”

 

He wasn’t exaggerating to Bucky when he said that Nate would make him talk about his feelings, he just didn’t explain that he has a near inability to _not_ share his feelings with the man, because he’s good at listening and he’s one of the few people still around for him to talk to. 

 

“And how was it?” Nate asks, his tone light and not forcing anything more than Ray wants to give.

 

“There were cookies,” Ray says immediately, and happily, which makes Nate laugh down the line, “And I met this big, one armed motherfucker that looked like he could probably eat me and still have dessert.”

 

“Well that sounds uh, nice?” Nate responds, his tone even.

 

Ray laughs, “He immediately insulted my sunglasses and called me a whiskey-tango fuck up high on Ripped Fuel. I mean, the whiskey-tango part _was_ after I said ‘at least I have both of my fuckin’ arms’ so I think it’s probably excusable.”

 

“So of course, he’s your best friend now,” Nate says knowingly.

 

“He’s coming over for pizza and tree tomorrow, homes,” he answers, finally dropping down onto the couch and resting his head onto the back of it. 

 

“What are you, thirteen? Who the hell still calls it tree?” Nate laughs and Ray groans.

 

“Bucky said that too.”

 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Nate questions before it catches up to him, “Oh, probably your new best friend.”

 

“His name is James,” Ray explains, “But he’d rather go by Bucky, I didn’t ask why, homes, I just accepted it because have I mentioned that he could probably eat me.”

 

Nate snorts loud enough that Ray can hear him down the line. “You did, you said that there would still be room for dessert as well. What the hell did this guy do in the service?”

 

“He was a Marine, 15th Expeditionary Unit, didn’t tell me what the hell happened to get him out but I’m like, ninety percent sure it has to do with him missing his left arm,” Ray answers, “He’s cool though, queer as a three dollar bill which like yeah, I need more queer people in my life.”

 

“Are you sure you should be calling him queer if he could eat you?” Nate asks, his tone sounding concerned.

 

“He called _himself_ queer,” Ray states, “And I’m queer too so I mean. It’s not like I’m being homophobic or hateful.”

 

“You could be queer and homophobic or hateful, Ray,” Nate says, “Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

 

“Yeah well, I’m _not_ ,” Ray says, his shoulders tensing up as he continues, “Are you really gonna ignore the fact that I just came out to you?”

 

“Dude,” Nate says, laughing in a fond way, “I’m not ignoring you, it’s just not a surprise. You should have seen the way you looked at Brad out in the fucking desert. I was pretty sure the only reason you didn’t like, drop to your knees and suck his cock in front of everyone is because you didn’t want to have to deal with Trombley being right about you being queer.”

 

“Fuck Trombley,” Ray says, thinking back to the last time he had seen his boys before they shipped back out, Trombley slurring and dragging Brad’s name through the mud while he wasn’t there to defend himself. “And that wasn’t the only thing stopping me, Brad would have killed me,” He says, louder this time and staring at the ceiling fan spinning above his head.

 

Nate snorts again. “Are you really going to pretend that you and Brad weren’t shacked up in his condo until the day he left for England? That you’re not _currently living in his condo_ by _yourself?_ Really? Because I’m pretty sure Brad Colbert is balls deep in his love for you at this point he’s just too much of a career man to do anything about it,” Nate states, his tone serious as Ray rolls his eyes, trying not to think on how obvious he and Brad must have been.

 

Trying not to think about it doesn’t stop him from asking, “You don’t uh, you don’t think that anyone else realized it, do you? Then Brad really would kill me. Or keep his dick from me, which really would just be a slow form of death.”

 

“That’s more information than I’ve ever in my life needed about your sexual preferences,” Nate groans, “But seriously Ray—” He pauses, apparently thinking back, “I don’t think anyone else noticed, and if they did they wouldn’t say anything, they’re good men. A bit dumb, but good,” he stops while Ray barks out a laugh, “And like I said, Brad is a career man, and you’re not in the Corps anymore so it’s pretty much a non-issue now. Especially when Brad is all the way in England.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Ray sighs, “And that leads us back to my original point, I’m thinking about getting a cat.”

 

“They’re moody,” Nate warns, “And if you don’t pay enough attention to them they may piss on something that you love.” Ray nearly giggles as he ads, “On second thought, that sounds a lot like Brad, or you, so maybe a cat would fit right in.”

 

“I don’t piss on things people love,” Ray argues, “Well…okay, so I did piss on your favorite camo net before but _it wasn’t on purpose,_ it just happened to get in my fucking way while I was taking a piss. It was dark! I couldn’t see!”

 

Nate laughs down the line, “You did it on purpose and you know you did, you shit.”

 

Ray inhales sharply. “It wasn’t like…okay, it wasn’t completely on accident but it _also_ wasn’t one hundred percent on purpose either! It happened to be there and I just uh, happened to be mad at you at the time I was taking a piss. And anyway—” He pauses, taking a breath, “who the hell has a favorite camo net?”

 

“I do, or well, I _did_ until you pissed on it,” Nate says, “It was the right shade and fit over the Humvee perfectly. You can’t judge me for having a favorite net when you had a favorite fucking radio setting.”

 

“That radio setting was the only fucking one that worked, homes, you and I _both_ know it. Captain America got to all the other fucking channels and dirtied them up with his fucking crying,” Ray says, standing back up from the couch and heading into the kitchen, deciding to look at what he has in the refrigerator for dinner. 

 

“You know I’m not supposed to know that you called him Captain America, right?” Nate reminds, and Ray can almost hear the chastising in his voice.

 

“Yeah, yeah, and what are you going to do about it now, homes? You’re all the way at fucking Harvard being all smart and getting a degree in…what is it again?” Ray asks, teasing Nate.

 

“I’m getting a goddamn Master’s degree in Business dude, don’t act like you don’t know, and I don’t actually know how I’m supposed to fit in with these stuffy suit wearers. Do you realize that in one of my classes there’s this guy, I don’t even know his name, but he comes in wearing a three-piece suit every week, e _very week_. I didn’t even know it was _possible_ for a man to own that many three-piece suits,” Nate is off on a tangent now, and Ray can almost picture him pacing his small apartment. “And not only that—” Ray decides on a can of ravioli from the cabinet next to the fridge for dinner, “—these fucking guys okay, one of our ice breakers was to introduce ourselves and tell the class what we’ve been up to since we got our undergrad degrees because in my professor’s words ‘ _getting to know your teammates is important_ ’ like please, it’s not so important that I have to act like I want to know these people. Anyway, we’re going around and introducing ourselves and I go before three-piece suit, because there was no way I was gonna go after that douche, and I say that I’ve been in the Marines for the past four years and do you know what he mumbles to his table-mate?”

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing nice,” Ray says, happy that Nate is ranting to him because he genuinely misses him, and likes hearing one of his best friends talk about their life, even if Nate does sound like he wants to scream.

 

Nate lets out an angry huff, “You’re fucking right, man, he said ‘ _I didn’t know they let runts like him in the Marines_ ’ which is so? He called me a fucking runt? Are you serious? I could fucking kill that guy without fucking blinking and he has the audacity to call _me_ a runt! He wears three-piece suits! He couldn’t throw a punch if I held a goddamn gun to his head and told him to.”

 

“Did you fight him?” Ray asks, managing to find a saucepan for the ravioli and dumping the can in, setting the can opener on the counter next to the stove.

 

“No, but I fucking wanted to. And of course when it was his turn he _thanked me for my service_ like he hadn’t just fucking talked shit about me, thinking I couldn’t hear him. Honestly, put me back in the goddamn Iraq desert again and I’d feel more comfortable than I do around three-piece and his hoard of minions,” Nate finishes talking with a huge sigh that echoes down the line, “…other than that it’s going well.”

 

“Well at least you’re not sleeping in the goddamn desert,” Ray points out, grabbing a fork from the drawer and moving the ravioli around the saucepan.

 

“When you’re right, you’re right, Person,” Nate agrees before asking, “So how are you doing out there? Other than meeting a one armed man that can eat you and living in your not-boyfriend’s condo.”

 

“I’m…good, I think. I have uh, nightmares every so often but like, who doesn’t ya’ know? That’s part of the reason I figured I should go to the VA meeting, to maybe talk shit out, which I didn’t do this time but hey, one armed man friend for the win, am I right? I still haven’t gotten a fucking job yet but I still have combat back pay to live off of and,” Ray pauses because he knows he’s going to get shit for what he says next, “Brad sends some money back home, to _his_ home, to help with rent.”

 

“Gaayyyyy,” Nate says down the line, sounding happy as he does so, “That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard and I think I love it. How is young Colbert doing across the sea? Lying back and thinking of the queen?”

 

Ray laughs, “I talked to him a couple of days ago and he said he’s good but if I’m honest? He sounds super tired, and I’m almost thinking that maybe he didn’t get enough down time before he re-upped. Which I tried to convince him of but he said if the rest of the guys were going back them he was too. I think he still feels responsible for some of the shit that went down out there and feels like if he’s at least still doing something Marine he’ll be able to protect them. Never mind that he’s in fucking England and the men are back in Iraq.”

 

“Brad is an idiot,” Nate says lightly, “If it’s on anyone, it’s on me. Everything is. Shit rolls downhill, and it bothers me that Brad still thinks that everything is his fault.”

 

“It’s not all on you either, Nate,” Ray says, knowing that for sure, “You were the only reason most of us are still alive to continue being idiots. And I know Brad trusted you unflinchingly, as did I.”

 

Ray can almost hear the smile in Nate’s voice when he says, “Look at you, sounding all educated with your big college word.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ray laughs, bending down to turn the heat on the stove down slightly when the ravioli pops at him. “I did almost go to college at one time and uh…” He pauses, weighing his words carefully before he continues, “I’m thinking about going back. Once I get a job. Might as well use that GI Bill for something, right?”

 

“Well well, who’s the educated asshole now?” Nate teases. “You should though, it’s not a bad idea and I mean, if you don’t, the money that you paid into it is just gonna sit there. Doing nothing,” he continues, more serious. “What are you thinking of studying?”

 

“Don’t laugh,” Ray warns, “But I’m thinking I want to major in either History or Literature.”

 

“You can’t tell me something like that right after you tell me I can’t laugh,” Nate complains even as he mumbles a laugh out. “That sounds intense though, but I mean, if you can drive a goddamn Humvee in the middle of the Iraq desert with Trombley and not drive purposefully into the nearest ambush, I think you can handle a little bit of college.”

 

“I did actually drive into a few ambushes with Trombley in the Humvee,” Ray points out, turning the stove off and stepping away, letting it sit to cool down while he continues, “Anyway, I just…I feel like it’s something I need to do, ya’ know? Like it’s something that will make me a better person and all that jazz.” Ray does a jazz hand with the hand not holding the phone and then says, “I just did a one handed jazz hand, homes.”

 

“I absolutely would expect nothing less,” Nate says, “And that’s also why I said _purposefully_ , I am very aware that you were in an ambush or two buddy, if I remember correctly Captain America was crying on the comms during one.”

 

“I knew you called him Captain America!” Ray celebrates, “I fucking knew it! Everyone else said you were too good to do it, but I fuckin’ _knew_!” 

 

“Where did you think it originally came from, Person,” Nate laughs, “Of course I called him Captain America, I just couldn’t call him that to your face because I was an officer and I had to pretend like he wasn’t the absolute worst thing that has ever happened to the Corps.”

 

“But he was.”

 

“But he was,” Nate agrees with a sigh. “So, History or Literature, why those two?” he asks as Ray takes his ravioli off the stove and dumps them into a large bowl, setting the saucepan in the sink before he takes his bowl with him to the couch.

 

Ray hums in thought before he answers, “I like that, whatever happens, literature and history both just, _exist,_ ya’ know? Like in the middle of the goddamn Iraq desert you could pick up a copy of The Odyssey and it’s still literature, still there in the world even when the world is going to hell around you. And history because, well, I think the history of wars is interesting, which I’m gonna blame the Marines for. But also because the history of the _world_ is fascinating, ya’ know? Like how can one species do all the stuff that humans have done over the years.” He feels like he’s rambling so he tapers off with, “It’s just cool, is all.”

 

“Oh my God,” Nate says, sounding genuinely surprised, “You’re a fucking nerd. How does no one know that you’re a fucking nerd?”

 

“I mean, more than half of the boxes I brought with me to uh, Brad’s place are books so…I’m pretty sure he figured it out,” Ray answers honestly, thinking about the boxes of books that he has stored in the garage, right next to Brad’s bike, which really _is_ a thing of beauty.

 

Nate laughs, “I’m gonna need pictures when you’ve set up all your books because I need to know what kind of nerd I’m dealing with here. Are you a fantasy nerd? A classics nerd? What is your kind of nerdy, dude?” 

 

“I don’t have a kind? I mean like, I’ll give anything a read through once pretty much, I just have a problem of buying a fuckton of books and then either reading them and loving them or forgetting to read them before I go out and buy more books. I haven’t actually bought any new books since I’ve been out here though, so I’m only working with what I brought with me,” Ray says, eyeing the only books of his that are out, and that’s because Brad had sent them over from Britain with a note that just said ‘ _do good_ ’. It’s seven books, sitting stacked on top of one another on the table the television is sitting on and their colorful spins make him smile as he looks at the. “I do have a set of Harry Potter books brought in already though,” He adds before shoving a ravioli in his mouth.

 

Nate guffaws, “I’m not surprised, you seem like the Harry Potter nerd type, next you’ll tell me that they’re _special_ because they’re from _England_.” Ray nearly chokes and the sound must travel down the line because Nate almost screeches, “Holy _shit_ you absolute _gay nerds_! Brad sent you Harry Potter books from England! You’re in love! I stand corrected from earlier, _this_ , this is the gayest thing I’ve ever heard and I’m absolutely one hundred percent in love with your love.”

 

Ray can feel himself blushing as he shifts on the couch and says, around another ravioli, “Please, shut up. Brad and I aren’t in love, I’m like ninety-seven percent sure that half the time he can barely stand me.”

 

“He _looovveesss_ you, and if it was physically possible I think he’d want to have your babies,” Nate teases, making Ray blush more. “Or you to have his babies. But seriously, man,” he says, “I think it’s great that you and Brad are like, actually a thing and not just a pair of sad, mutually pining idiots that didn’t actually do anything about what you’re feeling.”

 

Ray swallows his food before he says, “It still feels like that sometimes. Because he’s so far away.”

 

“Well that’s not forever,” Nate says, “And when he gets back I can harass the two of you for being nauseatingly cute. Because I’m sure you are.”

 

“We’re two giant assholes,” Ray denies, “Not cute, _never_ cute. Brad would say that’s an affront to his warrior spirit.”

 

Nate laughs, “Everything is an affront to Brad’s warrior spirit. It seems like his warrior spirit is very delicate if you ask me.”

 

Ray has shoved another ravioli in his mouth and makes a vague sound of agreement before he manages to chew, swallow, and respond. “Don’t let him hear you say that, he’ll probably try and punch you or something just to prove that it’s not, because he’s an idiot,” he says, rolling his eyes and poking at the last few ravioli in his bowl.

 

“Well,” Nate says after a few moments of comfortable silence, “I have to get back to this fucking paper that I’ve been neglecting while talking to you. Because it’s due in like two days and I only have my sources picked out, I haven’t written shit. So that’s exciting.”

 

“Have fun with that,” Ray says before they say their goodbyes and hang up, Nate promising to call him in a few days to see how the job hunt is going and to see if he still likes his new friend Bucky after hanging out with him outside of the VA group.

 

When Ray hangs up he feels refreshed, happy that he got to hear a familiar and friendly voice, even if he was a couple thousand miles away. It also happens to make him miss Brad more, which he fights by shoving the last two ravioli into his mouth and reaching for the television remote. He places his now empty bowl on the small coffee table in front of him and drops the remote onto the couch next to his thigh as the TV switches on. 

 

“ _You’re not going to call Brad tonigh_ t,” Ray mumbles to himself as the TV brightens and the sounds of a hockey game fill the room. He thinks that he wants to change the channel, he really does, but he can’t seem to gather the energy that it would take to move his hand from his lap to the remote. It would be ridiculous, he reasons, to call Brad because he spoke to him three days ago, his eyes tracing the contours of Brad’s face via their Skype call that they only managed because Brad bullied one of his guys into letting him borrow his laptop. They kept Ray’s camera off, so at least they could speak freely without someone seeing that Brad was speaking to another man. In another world it would be fine, but when Brad’s saying “ _I miss you_ ” with a tone that someone would have to be fucking deaf to not pick up on, it’s safer for him if Ray keeps his camera off. But it’s hard, especially when Brad says that he misses seeing his face in the morning and really, maybe Nate was right when he said they were nauseatingly cute, because Ray’s stomach turns when he thinks about Brad being out there without him at his nine. 

 

He makes a deal with himself as he gathers enough energy to get up and grab the laptop Brad left behind to check his email, deciding that if Brad has emailed him first he’ll reply, but if he hasn’t he’ll just close the laptop and pretend like he isn’t a needy piece of shit. Which he is. But he’s sure as _fuck_ not going to let Brad know it. Ray logs into his email and, if anyone ever asks about this he will deny it to his last dying breath, lets out a happy sigh when he sees that he does actually have an email from Brad. 

 

_R,_

 

_This is stupid, the men here are stupid and there’s never going to be an RTO that’s better than you, so I don’t understand why the military—any military—tries._

 

_I miss you._

 

_The men here aren’t actually stupid, they’re fine. At least I don’t have another fucking Trombley on my squad. We’re still not out of England yet, I don’t know when we’re going over to Iraq but I would imagine it’ll be anytime now. I’ll let you know when I know, if I get the time. If I don’t well, don’t worry if I start not replying because it doesn’t mean I’m ignoring you, you needy piece of shit —_

 

When Ray reads this he laughs, covering his mouth as he reads on.

 

— _it just means that I’m fighting in a goddamn war for a country that only believes that half of me deserves to have rights. Which is something I try not to think about for too long because if I do I might punch out the first American officer I see when I get over to Iraq. The men over here are more forgiving, and a hell of a lot more understanding, which is the most surprising part (one man, Jonas, has a boyfriend that he’s open about having. Which is amazing.) Maybe you and I can actually use the fucking cameras on Skype sometime if I can get blood oaths from the men saying that if they see anything and say anything I can fucking kill them._

 

_It would be good to see your whiskey-tango face._

 

_I am hearing whispers about some type of Libo before we go over to Iraq so I’ll keep you updated on that as well, as far as I know it’s just rumors but hey, maybe rumors in the Royal Marines are more true than in the un-Royal Marines._

 

_Poke emailed me yesterday and says he hasn’t heard from you lately. Give him a fucking call or else he’s likely to show up at the condo and harass you for being the White Devil or whatever it is he’s on about this month. When you talk to him tell him that I said he’s an ugly motherfucker and I’m making my whole squad over here watch Pocahontas, just to spite him (we have actually watched it, but not because it was my idea—one of the guys decided to have a fucking Disney marathon. A_ **_Disney marathon_ ** _. I didn’t believe it was happening either until he put in The Lion King. Now it’s become a bonding thing.) Have I mentioned these fucking Brits are weird?_

 

_Write me back fuckstick,_

 

_Brad_

 

Brad can give him shit all day long for being a needy motherfucker but it’s clear as day that Brad misses him as well, and not just because he’s said so in the email. Ray is grinning at the screen and, in a fit of weirdness, has to wipe at his eyes slightly because they’re damp. He’s not actually crying, and he’ll fucking punch anyone if they say he did, but it’s a close thing. He didn’t realize how much he missed the other man until this exact moment, and it combined with the echoes of nightmares from the night before hit him like a brick. He’s faintly shaking as he types out his reply.

 

_Brad,_

 

_Who you calling fuckstick, asshole? And of course there ain’t no RTO out there like me because I’m the greatest RTO in the business, homes._

 

_I miss you too._

 

_I’ve been looking for a job, but it’s fucking hard, I’m either under qualified because I haven’t been to college, or over qualified because I was a fucking Marine. Not something that they tell you when you’re signing on, is it? I’m thinking about signing up for some college classes, just to see if I like it. Who knows, maybe it’ll be my fucking thing, ya know? I can dream, I guess._

 

_I went to a group therapy session today down at the VA. It was okay. I met this big motherfucker there with one arm that could probably beat me up with his fucking nub, dude, that’s how big he is. He was in the 15th Expeditionary Unit, Lieutenant James Barnes, have you heard of him? He seemed to have heard of you, which was fucking hilarious when I told him that you and I uh, live together. I thought he was gonna piss himself when he found out that you had been my Sergeant! He’s coming over tomorrow to help me unpack some of my fucking books and then there’s going to be pizza and tree (don’t worry, we’ll smoke on the patio, I know how you are) and probably some shitty video game playing or something. I don’t even know what a dude with one arm can do? I would imagine whatever I can just like, slower, but who knows man, I guess I’ll find out tomorrow. The counselor that runs the sessions is cool, very chill. He was a pilot, and he has this friend that owns a coffee shop/bakery that makes literally the best fucking chocolate chip cookies I have ever eaten in my entire life. They’re the best. I’ll get you some eventually to send over and hopefully they actually make it through the post and not into my stomach._

 

_I miss your dick (and your face)._

 

_It’s great that it’s more open there than it is here. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to leave the fucking service it was more like the Brits, huh? I just couldn’t stand hiding one part of myself anymore. DADT is fucking bullshit. Tell Jonas that you get your dick sucked at home by a dude on the regular, he probably won’t even believe you :P_

 

_I talked to Nate today! He’s doing well, he’s actually enjoying Grad school which sounds fucking weird but also exactly like something he would enjoy. He does hate this one dude in one of his classes though, or at least he really wants to punch this guy because, his words “…I didn’t even know it was possible for a man to own that many three-piece suits.” So who knows, Nate could get kicked out of Grad school for decking a guy in a suit, the world is his oyster and he’ll do as he pleases I guess. He sounds really good, which is always nice._

 

_Do let me know about Libo or being shipped off, whichever comes first!_

 

_I’ll call Poke tomorrow morning, he has a kid that should wake up early, right? I always forget that he left the same time as I did because he actually has his fucking life together. What a maniac. I won’t let him know that you’re having Disney marathons but I will tell him that you’re making them watch Pocahontas as a tribute to him. It’ll warm his cold heart (or he’ll punch me)(he’ll probably punch me)._

 

_Stay frosty and be smart, asshole_

 

_R_

 

_P.S. I’m thinking about getting a cat_

 

Ray hits send on his email and feels his body relax, the stress of trying to figure out what to say leaving him in a rush when the email dings and tells him that it’s been sent. He really hopes he didn’t ramble too much in the email, but he can’t be fucked to read over it in his sent folder. He’s sure it’s fine, and if it’s not Brad will let him know in his next email, by harassing him endlessly. It is good to hear that Brad might be getting a bit of time off before they head over to Iraq, because he’s got to be close to running himself ragged over there. He sits there on the couch for, well he’s not actually sure how long, but when he finally looks at the time on his phone and sees that it’s only eight o’clock, too early for him to try sleeping so he decides, in a rush of restless energy, to actually clean the kitchen. 

 

He’s elbow deep in soapy water, cleaning the pots and pans from the last handful of days that he had left in the sink when his phone rings. Ray curses and rinses one hand off, quickly wiping it on his jeans before he grabs his phone from his pocket. “You reached the greatest ever, what can I do you for?” He answers, pulling his phone away from his ear as he hits the button for speaker phone so that he can continue cleaning the dishes.

 

“If you get a cat I’ll fucking kill you,” Brad’s voice rings out from the other end of the line, nearly causing Ray to drop the fucking plate he had just picked up to wash. 

 

“What the _fuck_ homes, you can’t just call out of the blue. And how do you know I want a cat? Did you call Nate _first_?” He complains, getting another grip on the plate and managing to wipe it clean without incident.

 

Brad sighs loudly on the phone and Ray smiles. “You,” Brad starts, and Ray can almost hear the eye roll as the other man continues, “Added it as a PS to the email that you sent about an hour ago.” 

 

“Was that only an hour ago? Hmm, and yes, I do want a cat, what the hell are you going to do from all the way in England, buddy? Wish me dead?” Ray laughs as he places the now clean plate in the clean pile.

 

“Do you have me on speakerphone?” Brad asks suddenly.  

 

Ray grabs the last dish in the sink that needs to be cleaned as he says, “Yeah, I was cleaning dishes when you called, I want to finish up so I can’t actually hold the phone and do this at the same time. Don’t worry, there’s no one else around to hear you pine for me.”

 

“I’m not pining,” Brad says, “I already have you. Pining implies that there’s some type of emotional crap that’s stopping people from being together. We have emotional crap, but it’s never stopped us.”

 

“That’s the gayest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Ray says even as he feels a smile bloom on his face, “Nate knows about us, by the way. I didn’t tell him but that college asshole is a genius, or a mind reader, because he was completely unsurprised when I told him that I’m queer.”

 

“He’s not going to uh—”

 

“Do you really have to ask if Nate is going to tell? You know he won’t. He thinks the world of you, and knows you’re _very_ career so he’s not gonna tell anyone. Except maybe his mother, but who’s she gonna tell,” he answers before Brad can even ask. “He said it was our fault for being so obvious out in Iraq and Mathilda,” Ray tacks on, “Said he wouldn’t have been surprised if I dropped to my knees in front of the other guys and blew you.”

 

“We’re not doing dirty talk tonight,” Brad warns, “And if you had tried that I would have been obligated to punch you.”

 

“That’s what I said!” Ray exclaims as he rinses off the final plate, pulling the plug in the sink as he adds, “I, for one, didn’t think either of us was obvious.”

 

Brad makes some kind of noise on the other end of the phone and says, “There is an actual reason I called, other than threatening you with death.”

 

“Oh, right,” Ray says, “This must be costing you a fortune. What’s up?”

 

“I’ll be back home in three weeks, for a week Libo, before we ship out to Iraq,” Brad says and Ray is grinning before he even finishes his sentence. 

 

“I mean, it’s whatever,” Ray says, not able to stop the fact that he sounds like he’s grinning as hard as he is, “You can meet the cat when you get here.”

 

“I swear to God, Ray,” Brad trails off, and Ray can hear him shaking his head, “No cats, no dogs, nothing that will shit on the floor.”

 

“Alright, Iceman, whatever you say,” Ray agrees. “It’ll be good to see you,” he says, quietly and almost embarrassed to admit it out loud.

 

“It’ll be good to see you too,” Brad says seriously before he continues, sounding apologetic, “I really have to go now though, I’m pretty much going to have to give up food for a few days to afford this call. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be home, I’ll email you with more information as I get it.”

 

With that, they say goodbye and Ray isn’t too proud to admit that he maybe stares at his phone for a few minutes after their call ends, trying to will it to ring again. He gives up when his phone chimes with a reminder that he needs to take his medication, and he finishes rinsing the sink free of suds before he dries his hands and reaches for his pill bottle. A new addition since Brad left that Ray hasn’t told him about in any of the emails or calls because he’s embarrassed that while Brad is out there risking his life again, Ray is sitting at home _depressed_ and _medicated_. He hasn’t actually told anyone that he’s on antidepressants, not even his own mother, because he doesn’t want his friends to treat him like he’s delicate and sad all the time. Which is stupid, because they’re all Marines and Ray’s pretty sure that they wouldn’t know delicate if it slapped them on the ass and called them Susie. 

 

“Alright dude, _chill_ ,” Ray mumbles to himself before he dry swallows his pill, making a face at the taste it leaves in the back of his throat, “So you want to die, oh well.” He laughs at himself and shakes his head, pulling up Poke’s name in his phone and sending off a text that says ‘ _homes_ , _i hear ur worried about me how sweeeeetttttt xoxoxoxox’._

 

He’s changing into his pajamas when Poke replies _‘just want to make sure the white devil hasnt gone back to hell yet asshole’._

 

Ray replies ‘ _it would take more than a lil retirement from the corps to get me down bro i’m alive and kickin and always ready to annoy_ ’ and then sends off another text right on the tail of it _‘B-Rad wanted me to let u know that he’s got all his new guys to watch pocahontas as a tribute to u, trying to get them to channel ur warrior spirit’_.

 

He’s just laid back on the couch, sprawling across the cushions, when his phone begins ringing. Ray doesn’t bother looking at the Caller ID before he answers, “‘sup Pokey.”

 

“You tell that whiskey-tango white devil that I’m gonna write a goddamn musical about Auschwitz and I’m gonna make him fucking star in that shit, Person,” Poke says, voice a harsh whisper.

 

“Are you whisper yelling at me, homes?” Ray laughs, “And I know how you feel about Pocahontas, bro, I’m just the messenger, don’t shoot me.”

 

“You know white men are the only ones that go around shooting people just because they don’t agree with something, dude, the white devil thinks they’re never wrong,” Poke responds, “And yes I’m whispering, we just put the fucking baby down for bed.”

 

“Oh shit, I forgot that you’ve got _two_ tiny humans now, how is that going?” Ray asks, genuinely curious even as he stifles a yawn, his medication finally hitting his system and making him pleasantly drowsy. 

 

Poke heaves a huge sigh. “It’s rough most nights man, the baby will wake up crying which makes the toddler wake up and then they’re both crying. Johanna says you should stop by sometime this week, to see the new baby and so that she can stuff you full of food—her words—I don’t understand how you manage to get all the fucking wives to love you, yet they all do. Even fucking Trombley’s wife liked you after that night at the bar,” he says, his voice gradually rising until he’s finally speaking in a normal tone of voice, the sound of crickets chirping in the background. 

 

“Are there fucking crickets where you live, homes? Are you _sure_ you don’t live in a Disney movie? And sure, I’ll have to see what my schedule is but we could probably do dinner on like, Saturday? I’m trying to get the last bit of my unpacking done so I’ve been a little all over the place this week,” Ray answers, only semi honestly as he does want to do some unpacking, but the next day is going to be spent doing that, Friday he has an appointment with his therapist which he’s _not_ ready to tell anyone about.

 

“I’ll text you to remind you, fuck face, now I gotta go because Johanna wants me to fucking clean the kitchen before I can go to bed. She’s a real monster sometimes,” Poke laughs and Ray can hear the smile in his voice as he talks about his wife, sounding more relaxed than he had the last time he and Ray spoke.

 

“You sound like you’re good, happy,” Ray says suddenly, unable to stop himself.

 

“I am dawg, I haven’t been this happy since before Afghanistan,” Poke replies, “It’s great to be home, and sleeping in a soft fucking bed next to the love of my life, ya’ know?”

 

Ray sighs, shifting on the couch, “Yeah man, it is nice to be home. Well I mean in _a_ home, crashing at Brad’s is going to lose the shine eventually I’m sure.”

 

“Nah, I don’t think it will. Plus, that asshole’s not there to ruin it,” Poke teases, “You sound pretty good yourself, dawg.”

 

“Yeah, I’m good, homes,” Ray lies, happy for now that his voice isn’t giving away how he’s been feeling lately, “Now go clean your fucking kitchen so you can sleep in peace.”

 

Poke laughs and the two of them say their goodbyes, Ray hanging up with a little more vigor than is necessary as he tries to shake off the shitty feeling of lying to a man that had become like a brother over in Iraq. _It takes time to get back to your normal again_ , his therapist had said when he’d told her about the nightmares, _you’re not broken, you’re just a little cracked and it takes time and help from others to mold yourself back to healthy._ He doesn’t care about being back to normal, he just wants to get one decent night of sleep while Brad is gone.

 

——————

 

The next morning is rough, Ray stumbles into the kitchen around 11AM and makes a pot of coffee while barely opening his eyes, the whole thing routine enough by now that he doesn’t need to pay attention to what he’s doing. While the coffee is brewing he slumps into a chair at the dining room table, resting his head on his folded arms as the slow trickle of the coffee pot filling lulls him back into a half-sleep, his head aching from lack of sleep. He was up and down half the night with nightmares, and the other half was spent laying in bed and staring at the ceiling and wishing that he could _just_ _fucking sleep._ He stays at the table for a handful of minutes after the coffee is brewed, needing to convince himself that getting up will be good for him…because there’s coffee at the end of that seemingly impossible task. 

 

He stands up finally and grabs a mug from the cabinet above the coffeemaker, filling it with coffee and, looking at the fridge which is only a few steps but a world away, he decides that he’s going to drink it black. Which he does as he settles back into the chair he had been sitting on, the mug of hot coffee held carefully between his hands as he sips. Ray has managed to drink nearly the whole cup before he actually begins to feel human again, enough that he sets the mug down on the table and grabs his phone from the pocket of his basketball shorts.  He sees that he has a text that he must have missed earlier in the morning, it’s from Bucky—it says: _i have a dr appointment this morning but i should be done @ like 1ish if u still need help with unpacking._

 

_homes yes, pizza and tree,_ Ray replies with one hand as he picks his coffee back up with the other, _also be prepared to be dazzled by the amount of books i have (that we have to unpack)_ _i’m living in the douglas drive condos & the address is 4487 brisbane way unit 6 just text me when ur on ur way so i can put real clothes on_. He sends it and the downs the rest of his coffee, deciding to run to the store which he’s been avoiding for the past week to get drinks and other shit that he’s been out of for a few days. Thank God for the notes app on his phone or he would never remember what he needed at the store, and he double checks it as he stands up and puts his mug in the sink, noting in the app as he does that he needs to get more eggs as he used the last of them the day before. He’s changing into jeans and a t-shirt when his phone chimes with a text message.

 

Ray looks at the text and laughs when he reads what Bucky has said. _ayyyy i live like 5 minutes from u which means i’m hella picking up killer pizza from mars is there anything you don’t like on pizza??????? or do u even care also i hate the fucking dr._ Ray isn’t actually sure that Killer Pizza from Mars is a real place, but he has a feeling that Bucky’s lived here a little longer than he has so he probably knows what the hell he’s talking about.

 

_just no pineapple plz anything else i’m cool with..and yeah drs suck, homes_ , Ray replies as he grabs his car keys from the hook by the door, making sure that he has the condo’s key on his key loop as well before he steps out of the door and locks it behind him, because he’s made that mistake before. 

 

_i’m getting a chicken space cowboy pizza then because it’s my favorite and i make everyone try it,_ Bucky replies as Ray gets down the stairs and to his car, his key sticking slightly in the door as he unlocks it. He gets another text just as he’s turning the car on that reads, _the dr keeps acting like…i don’t know that i have an arm missing lmao i fucking haatteeeeee va drs they’re the fucking worst_. Ray replies with a string of sad faces and then drops his phone into the cup holder, not chancing texting and driving in fucking California, he’s heard horror stories of people crashing because of it and he’d really rather not survive Iraq just to be taken out by some fucking hippie Yoga practicing asshole on the way to the goddamn grocery store. 

 

By the time he’s done his shopping and is walking back up the stairs to the condo, his hands full of grocery bags, it’s nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. He made the mistake of going to the grocery store hungry and ended up with way more food than he’ll need for the week, so much that he’s actually surprised that he was able to carry all of the bags up in one trip. Something that Ray’s positive is only possible because he still has some vague form of upper body strength from the last bit of training he did before he decided to get the fuck out. Ray’s just finished putting the groceries away when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he checks the time while he’s seeing who the text is from, it’s nearly one so he’s expecting it to be Bucky. It’s from Nate, surprisingly, and it reads _poke called me today and said you sounded good when he talked to you last night but i know for a fact that you sounded like a goddamn mess when i talked to you yesterday so wtf bro_. 

 

As Ray’s going to reply his phone buzzes again, this time with a text from Bucky, _i’m leaving camp p medical now so i’ll be to ur place in like 20ish minutes depending on how long the pizza takes ayy_. 

 

Ray replies to Bucky with a quick _cool! txt me when u get here if you need help carrying the pizza up or whatever_. After he sends that he sends Nate a reply, this one taking a few minutes to compose in his head before he lets himself type it out, _sometimes i’m okay and sometimes i’m not, when i talked to poke i was alright and when i talked to you i was having some kind of….moment or whatever tf you want to call it. life’s hard dude and sometimes i’m better at shouldering it than others lol. i’m better today than i was yesterday when i talked to you,_ which isn’t entirely a lie, Ray’s at least gone out and been a functional member of society today, _so don’t worry about me bro._ He hits send and then sends another text, adding, _btw Brad told me that he’s gonna be getting a week back in the states before they ship him back to Iraq so I’ll let u know more details when I know!_

 

_YOU LOVE BRAD AND BRAD LOVES YOU AND I WANT TO DIE IT’S SO CUTE,_ is the text that Ray gets back from Nate as he’s walking out of the condo to start grabbing some of the boxes from the garage, the lanyard holding his keys hanging from his neck even as he doesn’t bother locking the door. 

 

Ray laughs as he sends back, _plz don’t die, we’re really not that cute_. He shoves his phone into his pocket and continues to the garage, managing to get three boxes into the condo before his phone rings in his pocket and he has to quickly set the fourth box down at the top of the steps to answer it, “Yoooo, you’ve reached your good pal Ray-Ray.”

 

“This place is like a fucking maze, asshole, I don’t even know if I’m in the right area,” Bucky sounds just like he did in person over the phone, which is weird enough that Ray has to  double check the Caller ID to make sure that it’s Bucky.

 

“Homes, how do you manage to sound exactly like you do in person over the phone? I sound like a fifteen year old girl, man,” Ray says before he pushes the box he had been carrying a few more feet so that it’s against that wall next to his front door. “I’ll come down and stand at the curb, it’s really not that big, bro.”

 

“That’s what she said,” Bucky says immediately, causing Ray to laugh, “And yes, please do that because you do sound like a fifteen year old girl and it’s really weird. I’m hanging up now.”

 

And he does, the dial tone going off against Ray’s ear as he goes down the stairs two at a time, hanging up his phone as he goes. He’s standing at the curb when he sees Bucky driving toward him slowly, “Over here, homes!” He yells, waving wildly and though he can’t hear him, he can see Bucky laugh at him in the car, one that’s just as loved as Ray’s own.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a round of Pain Olympics (Bucky wins), marijuana smoked, and pizza ingested. Also, Rebecca Barnes is the best sister.

Bucky’s left shoulder is sore from where his doctor had been poking at it and taking notes, so it’s nice to see Ray being fucking ridiculous on the edge of the curb, his face reddened and arms flailing enough that he knows if someone walked by him they’d get smacked. “You’re a menace,” Bucky says, greeting the man with a fist bump as he gets out of the car.

 

“I’ve been told,” Ray agrees easily as he looks Bucky over, “Your hair looks different than it did yesterday.” It’s said almost like an accusation and it makes him laugh again, shaking his head.

 

“It’s because I actually took a fucking shower this morning, bro,” Bucky responds, closing the driver’s door on his car and opening the door to the back seat. “I do actually need your help carrying some stuff unless you want me to take two trips,” he continues, “And you wouldn’t do that to your BFF Bucky, would you?”

 

“Hell no I wouldn’t do that, Ray-Ray is the _best_ best friend,” Ray says, grabbing the plastic bag that Bucky hands over, smelling garlic. “What,” he starts, bringing the bag up to his nose, “Is in this bag?”

 

“Only the best cheesy garlic bread you’ve ever eaten,” Bucky answers as he picks up the large pizza box from his backseat, closing the door with his hip and then placing the box on the roof just long enough that he can lock his car with the key fob, making sure it beeps before he shoves his keys into his pocket and grabs the pizza box again, balancing it on his one hand.

 

“I was mid-grabbing shit out of my garage when you called and said you were lost so there’s a box at the top of the stairs that you’ll have to avoid,” Ray explains as he leads Bucky toward the stairs that lead to the condo, “I pushed it against the wall so it shouldn’t like, kill you, but it’s there.”

 

“Good to know,” Bucky says as he walks behind Ray, following the back of his head up the stairs and around the box that’s sitting right against the wall at the top of the stairs. 

 

Ray opens the condo door and lets Bucky ahead of him, “We’ll put this shit down and then I’ll grab that last box that I left outside.” He directs Bucky to the kitchen and they set the food down on the counter while Bucky looks around and lets out a low whistle.

 

“This is a nice fuckin’ place, bro,” he says as he toes his shoes off, nudging them so that they line up at the edge of the kitchen cabinets, “Can’t believe a whiskey-tango fuck like you lives here.”

 

“I know, right?” Ray says over his shoulder as he goes back outside, coming back in with the last box in hand a few moments later, setting it on top of one of the other boxes that he brought in. “It’s actually…my uh, well, I guess technically my place? I am on the lease but like, in name only. It’s Brad’s place—you remember, the Iceman whose dick I sucked?” Ray says as he kicks his own shoes off, not being nearly as neat as Bucky and pointing to a cabinet in the corner of the kitchen, “There’s plates in there if you want to eat now, or we can smoke and then eat, whatever floats your boat, Marine.”

 

“Well in the opinion of this Marine,” Bucky says with a laugh, “Smoking before pizza is always the way to go. I still can’t believe you haven’t gotten a pie from Killer Pizza, they’re one of the best spots in this asshole city for pizza.”

 

“A pie? What are you, a fuckin New Yorker?” Ray asks in a terribly exaggerated accent.

 

“I am actually, Brooklyn born and bred,” Bucky answers honestly, “Part of the reason I joined up when I did.”

 

Ray looks at him, his head tilted, “Were you uh, were you there when the towers went down?” Bucky nods, once, and opens his mouth, trying to speak before he closes it and nods again. “That’s rough, homes,” Ray says, sounding serious, “At least, from what I hear. What the fuck would I know, I was in assfuck Missouri with a dick in my hand when it happened.” 

 

“Rough, yeah, that’s a word for it,” Bucky says finally, nodding again, “Where’s the fuckin’ weed, man?”

 

“Chill homes, I’m grabbing the tree right now,” Ray replies as he goes to the table next to the couch and opens the drawer that’s there, grabbing his stash, pipe, rolling papers, and grinder, and closing the drawer before he walks back to the kitchen, setting his stuff on the semi-island that Bucky had set the pizza on.

 

“Fucking _tree_ ,” Bucky laughs, shaking his head, “I can’t believe you’re a goddamn adult and you call it fucking _tree_.”

 

“Hey, don’t laugh at what I call my tree when I’m grinding some up for you right now,” Ray points out, putting a few buds in his grinder and twisting it with a serious look on his face.

 

“Alright, let’s get back to the fact that you and Iceman are practically fucking married it seems? Is that what I’m getting here? Are you secretly a fucking mushy marshmallow?” Bucky goads, as Ray groans. 

 

Ray opens the grinder to check out how fine it is as he says, “Alright, let’s talk about it. I live here, and he sends money to help with the mortgage and shit, and like okay, maybe we’re very gay for each other but it’s like? What? Nothing can fucking happen beyond what’s happening now, anyway. According to everyone else that’s in the fucking service we’re just _war buddies_ , and he lets me live here because he’s not here anyway and if I wasn’t here he’d be paying for an empty condo anyway. So, that’s what it is.” Bucky makes a sound in the back of his throat as Ray tips the weed from the grinder onto a rolling paper as he says, “And there I go, spilling emotions again,” laughing at himself.

 

“I saw people jump,” Bucky says suddenly, feeling the need to share since Ray is being so open, “On 9/11, that’s why I signed up. I was—I was at a friend’s apartment that morning, in the city, when it happened. We were skipping class, and we were on his shitty balcony sharing a joint when the first plane hit. We weren’t terribly close but yeah, close enough to see that. And to be covered in ash when the whole thing was done with, but I think Jersey was covered in fuckin’ ash so that’s not saying much. I went down to the recruiter the next day and I would have gone that day if they’d been open. I just, I couldn’t imagine the thoughts that would go through someone’s head to have them do that, ya know?” Bucky isn’t looking at Ray as he speaks, his eyes firmly on the lid of the pizza box, so he misses the sad look that Ray shoots him. 

 

“You win this game of Pain Olympics, homes, but I’ll get you next time. You should know that you never pull your big guns out in the first battle,” Ray says lightly, trying to ease the tension in the room and succeeding as Bucky finally looks at him, rolling his eyes.

 

“Yes hi, I’m literally _missing an arm_ ,” Bucky says, waving at the void on his left side, “Yeah, 9/11 was a shitty day but in the grand scheme of things, it’s probably not my origin story.”

 

“What? WHAT? You mean to tell me that you’re missing a fucking arm, holy _shit_ I had no idea,” Ray says, covering his mouth with one hand as he spreads the weed on the rolling paper evenly with the other, “That’s crazy, homes, tell me more.”

 

Bucky laughs, “I know, it’s pretty obvious, right? Can you imagine if a super villain’s origin story was as easy to spot as this? That would lead to a very boring comic book series I think.” Ray nods in agreement and then starts rolling as Bucky continues, “Or, wait, why’d I automatically cast myself as the villain? I’m sure my therapist would have something to say about that. Probably something along the line of ‘ _oh James_ , don’t see yourself as a bad guy’ like I didn’t oh I don’t know, actually kill people.”

 

Ray finishes rolling and licks it closed, grabbing the lighter from his pocket and passing the well rolled joint through the flame quickly. “Probably man, all therapists say the same shit, right? It’s all about bettering yourself and talking about what’s bothering you. Annoying when you thought you were having a good day, and then have to shit all over it by thinking about how shitty your life is,” he agrees, “Which is my next card in the Pain Olympics, I was seeing a therapist back home before I shipped out to Iraq, and after I got home, and she’s got me on these antidepressants that were working, but they’ve pretty much stopped working, and I don’t want to disappoint her so I haven’t told her _or_ my new therapist yet.”

 

“I’m on one too, bro, and I’m also on like three pain killers at various times if I need them, they kind of just…throw pills at me if I even look at them wrong,” Bucky says with a shrug, “It’s one of the few perks of missing an arm, they take pity on me and give me shit. That is, of course, when I can actually get in for an appointment because the VA sucks a big hairy asshole.”

 

“I know how hard it was to get into a therapist, I can only imagine how hard it would be for you,” Ray shakes his head as he hands over the joint saying, “Guest gets first.”

 

“It’s fucking tragic,” Bucky says as he takes the joint and lighter in hand, putting the joint between his lips carefully as he lights the end. He puts the lighter down on the counter when the burn catches, inhaling smoke into his lungs for a moment before he hands it back to Ray. “I’m just saying, you’d think with all the people they’re sending to an actual sandy hell, they’d be better at this whole ‘treating the injured’ thing,” Bucky says, his voice tight as he hold the smoke in, exhaling slowly at the end of his sentence. 

 

“It’s almost like they don’t give a fuck about those of us that end up injured,” Ray says before taking a hit. “Not that I was injured but I’m just saying,” he continues before exhaling, “It’s got to suck.”

 

“Mental illness is an injury too, bro,” Bucky says gently, quirking an eyebrow, “Don’t let those assholes at the VA tell you that just because your body came back whole it means that _you’re_ whole.”

 

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Ray says as he passes the joint back, “But thanks for it…I think.”

 

Bucky takes a hit and puffs his cheeks out, crossing his eyes slightly as he hands it back. “All I’m saying,” he begins after he’s done making a dumb face, letting the smoke flow from his mouth, “Is that people need to be reminded that there’s more than one way for a person coming home from war to be injured.”

 

“Which is never going to happen,” Ray says, voice tight, “The VA is worth about as much as a piece of dog shit half the time, my man.” He lets the smoke go as he adds on, “Except for that Sam dude that ran the meeting yesterday, he seems too good for them.”

 

“He is pretty great,” Bucky agrees, taking the joint offered and taking a long hit and pausing before he says, “He actually seems to care.” He coughs, handing the joint back to Ray and wiping at his eyes as he continues, “He’s fairly new so he’s probably just not jaded by the whole fucking thing yet. I’ve actually heard him give like, decent mental health advice that I told my therapist about and he was shocked that an asshole working for the VA would be so smart, his words.” 

 

“Plus his friend makes bomb ass cookies, oh man, I wish I had brought some home with me instead of eating them all when we were talking yesterday,” Ray says, sighing wistfully before he takes a hit, finishing off the joint. “Oh fuck,” he says, freezing after he tosses the butt into the sink to cool down, “I told Brad we’d smoke on the balcony. _Shit_.”

 

Bucky laughs, his head tilting back as he does, “ _Bro_ , you should see the look on your face! You look like you’ve just seen a fucking _ghost_!” He’s still laughing as Ray groans and looks toward a glass door that, if Bucky had to guess, opens to the balcony. “You could open the door to air it out if that will make you feel better?” He goads, laughing again as Ray does just that, walking over to the sliding glass door and opening it, letting the cool air from the outside in.

 

“I just _know_ that somehow Brad’s gonna know that I smoked in the fucking condo,” he complains, walking back to the kitchen and eyeing the pizza on the counter.

 

“Is the Iceman fucking psychic too? Is that what you’re telling me?” Bucky asks, trying to sound serious, “Because that’s what I’m getting from this.”

 

“Fuck I don’t know man, he might be. The last time I smoked in the condo he just _knew_ , it was fucking weird,” Ray replies, his gaze moving over to the bag with the cheesy garlic bread in it. “Fuck it,” he shrugs, “Homes, can you pass me the cheesy garlic bread? I am ready to eat!”

 

“Oh thank fuck,” Bucky celebrates, “I was gonna ask where the fucking plates are because I want a slice of pizza more than I want my dick sucked.”

 

“Dude, you said you don’t like sex so like…you’d never want your dick sucked?” Ray points out as he goes to the cabinet that holds the plates, taking two down and handing one over to Bucky.

 

“When you’re right, you’re right,” Bucky agrees, “But I’d still rather get my dick sucked than like…I don’t know, get stabbed? So it’s at least higher on my list of things I want to do than bodily injury or like, death.”

 

“So you want pizza more than you want to die? High praise coming from a one armed bandit, I think.” It’s Ray’s turn to laugh as he watches Bucky very seriously open the pizza box and take out a slice. 

 

“I take my pizza seriously, bro. The only thing I take more seriously than pizza is coffee, which is why the VA is so offensive, they have the _audacity_ to call that toxic brown sludge coffee. It makes me want to kill a man,” Bucky says honestly, picking a piece of chicken off of his slice and popping it into his mouth. 

 

Ray would laugh, but he’s just taken a bite of the cheesy garlic bread, and his laugh turns into a moan of pleasure. “Holy shit, homes,” he says around a mouthful of bread, “This is…the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. _Dude_ , why hasn’t anyone told me about this place? Was Brad hiding the good pizza from me so that I wouldn’t get fat? I am _offended_!” 

 

“You haven’t even tried the pizza yet,” Bucky points out around his own mouthful of food.

 

Ray waves the last of the garlic bread in his hand towards Bucky. “I don’t even need to, if their garlic bread is this good the pizza is gonna make me jizz my pants, homes,” he says before he pops the last of his piece of garlic bread into his mouth, chewing as he reaches for a slice of pizza to put on his plate.

 

The two of them polish off the pizza and garlic bread in no time, and after they’ve ditched their plates in the sink they collapse onto the couch, holding their stomachs. “I shouldn’t have had that last slice,” Bucky nearly whines.

 

“Oh God, I’m dying,” Ray says wincing slightly as he shifts on the couch, “But if I die, it was worth it, it was so good.”

 

Bucky groans, “I’m gonna have to go to the gym for a week straight to work this off.”

 

“Gross,” Ray says, “Right now, even just _thinking_ about working out makes me want to puke.”

 

“ _Shhhhh_ ,” Bucky warns, “Oh fuck, please don’t talk about puking.”

 

They stay on the couch for a few minutes, the only movement is Ray reaching for the television remote and turning the TV on. “What do you want to watch?” Ray asks as he pulls up the guide, “Oh shit, Killer Kids is on, never mind, I’m overruling whatever you were about to say.”

 

Bucky laughs and then groans in pain, “I would watch Killer Kids too, bro, it’s all good.”

 

“Fuck yeah you would,” Ray says as he turns it on, “These kids are fucking crazy, homes. If I did any of the shit these kids do _before_ they end up murdering people _I_ would have been murdered by my ma’.”

 

“Right?” Bucky agrees, “My mom would have pushed me out of the apartment window if I did half the shit these rich white kids get away with, because you know it’s always rich white kids that lose their fucking minds.”

 

Ray snorts in laughter. “You’re right,” he agrees, “It just blows my mind that these kids actually fucking did it though, you know? Like I know we all had those thoughts in high school but? To actually do it? I don’t know if I’m concerned or jealous at their follow through.”

 

“I’m concerned,” Bucky replies, “That you think everyone had homicidal thoughts in high school.”

 

“Are you saying you didn’t?” Ray asks as he shifts slightly to look over at Bucky.

 

“I’m not,” he denies, shaking his head, “I’m just saying that there’s a reason the two of us became Marines and it probably has something to do with the homicidal teenage thoughts.”

 

“That…might be very true,” Ray laughs, “It does take a special kind to be a Marine, doesn’t it?”

 

Bucky nods his head, “It really does, the best and worst thing about being a Marine, in this Marine’s opinion, is the fact that you’re surrounded by men that are just as fuckin’ loopy as you are half the time, but you know they’ve got your back no matter what.”

 

“I feel like that might be a general military thing as well,” Ray says before getting distracted by something that’s happening on the TV. 

 

Bucky falls silent, allowing himself to look around the living room and feeling loose, thanks to the weed that’s finally settling into his bones. He skips over the boxes and looks at the TV for a moment before noticing, “Yo, are those Harry Potter books?”

 

Ray nods his head, “Yeah man, Brad sent them over from England because I’m a giant fucking nerd and he’s constantly trying to get me to sleep with him.”

 

“I think you guys are in love, and I’m disgusted,” Bucky teases. “That’s fucking sick though, man, Harry Potter books all the way from fucking England? If you weren’t my friend I might try and fight you for them,” he says, sitting up and rolling up his pant leg to show off a tattoo that he has on the inside of his ankle, it’s a lightening bolt, and Ray looks at it and laughs giddily. 

 

“Homes,” he says, “You’re just as nerdy as I am. This is a friendship made in heaven, are you fucking kidding me? What are the chances?”

 

“Well realistically the chances are actually pretty high, Harry Potter is one of the most popular book series in the _world_ so…” Bucky trails off as Ray rolls up his right sleeve enough that he can show off the Deathly Hallows symbol that he has tattooed just above the crease of his elbow. “Okay yeah, we’re both really fucking nerdy,” He agrees, laughing. 

 

“Nerd friends,” Ray says, holding his fist out and waiting for Bucky to bump it with his own, “Now, we should really probably start unpacking if we’re actually gonna fucking do it, luckily it’s only these four boxes and, I’ll be honest, it’s mostly books.” Bucky nods and the two of the peel themselves off of the couch, Ray leading the way to the boxes and opening one of the ones that’s stacked on top of another. “First I think we’ll start putting them in this bookcase,” he says, pointing to the bookcase nearest the TV, “And if we need more room there’s a bookcase in the guest bedroom.”

 

“You mean _your_ bedroom when other military assholes come over?” Bucky asks, taking a book from Ray’s hand and setting it on the middle shelf of the case, the only one that doesn’t have anything else on it.

 

“Exactly,” Rays says, “Which is why it won’t be weird to have _my_ books in there.” The two of them work in relative silence, making comments here and there about what’s happening on the TV and where a book should go, Ray and Bucky managing to get a full two boxes of books on the book case in the living room as well as around the TV, joining the Harry Potter books where they are. 

 

“On to the bedroom?” Bucky asks as he shoves one last book onto the shelf he had been filling, “I’m pretty sure this case is as full as it can get.”

 

“Yeah, let’s get these boxes into the bedroom,” Ray says, and that’s what they do, Ray opening the one that Bucky is eyeing so that he can grab a flap with his one hand and drag it behind him, which is easier than him trying to lift it with his one arm and Ray pushing his own box, not wanting to carry it if he doesn’t have to. 

 

Buck stops when he crosses the threshold of the guest room and laughs. “Holy shit dude,” He says, “This is the ugliest fucking guest room I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Yeah homes, I know, supposedly Brad’s mom came in and decorated his whole condo while we were in Iraq the last time, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her that this is the ugliest room he’s ever seen in his life,” Ray responds, waving a hand at the tacky floral wallpaper and matching duvet cover, “Brad’s mom is the best, except at home decorating.”

 

“Does she uh, does she know about you two and your whole,” Bucky waves his hand around, “ _Thing?_ ”

 

Ray snorts and grabs a book out of the box that Bucky had been dragging into the room. “He says she has _no idea_ , but, she’s called me a few times since he’s been gone just to check in, and like, I’m pretty sure you don’t do that for your son’s roommate, ya’ know?” Ray says, “Plus, she fucking loves me so even if we weren’t doing our thing I’m pretty sure she’d want us to.”

 

Bucky laughs and grabs a book as well, starting to help Ray fill out the bookcase that had been sitting empty since Brad’s mother bought it nearly a year before. “So,” Bucky starts once they’ve cleared one box out and are half way through with the last, “Do you still talk to the guys from your platoon?”

 

“Hell yeah,” Ray answers immediately before back tracking, “Well, most. Some guys just, you don’t want to let them into your civvie life, ya’ know? They’re that special kind of crazy that is strictly only cool in the field, any other time they just, well, frankly they scare you. I do talk to my former LT still though, well, Captain technically, but he got promoted after I got the fuck out so he’s still LT to me. He got out not too long after he got promoted which I think is about as close to rude as he’s ever gotten in his _life_. Another one of the men, Poke err, I mean, Sergeant Antonio Espera, he lives not too far from here so I see him every so often, he got the fuck out around the same time I did. Which is good, he has two kids now homes, you can’t be going off to fight a war when you have two kids and a wife, ya’ know?” Bucky nods and makes a noise of quiet agreement before Ray continues, “I loved the men when we were out fighting the not-so-good fight but some of then it’s just, it’s better to shake those guys off, especially because I’m not planning on being quiet about being fuckin’ queer since I’m out.”

 

“Ha, out,” Bucky laughs, “I get that though. I don’t talk to any of the guys from my platoon, half of them because they’re _those_ kind of assholes and the other half because uh, well because they’re off partying with my left arm.”

 

“Homes, you’ve really got to stop aiming for gold in the Pain Olympics,” Ray says, shaking his head as he grabs the last book form Bucky, “That sucks though, we had two guys get fucked up from a landmine. Because a fucking Captain decided that it’d be a good fucking idea to go looking for them in the middle of the fucking night. They were just supposed to throw some fucking glow sticks and be done with it but Captain fuckin’ America decided to have them do a full sweep. Luckily they didn’t fucking _die_ , but they could have.” 

 

Bucky nods his head in amazement that a Captain could be that fucking stupid. “Yeah man, those landmines and IEDs over there are no fucking joke, that’s how this happened, one second I was in a Humvee and the next I was six feet away and my fuckin’ arm was laying there like a dead fish,” He says, “Weirdest feeling in the world bro, I was looking at my arm and thinking _fucking pick up your SAW man_ but it just, wasn’t moving. Adrenaline is a powerful fuckin’ drug, I didn’t even realize that it was as fucked up as it obviously was until one of the other men asked if I was okay.”

 

Ray reaches over and pats Bucky’s left shoulder three times, hard, before he pulls away, standing up and saying, “War is no fucking joke. Which is why we need to go to that fucking coffee shop.” The change in subject isn’t seamless, but it’s welcome enough that Bucky lets it go. 

 

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, standing up as well and wondering for a moment when him and Ray even knelt in front of the bookcase in the first place, “We really do man, it’d be nice to talk to another vet that will actually agree with us instead of those ones at the VA all _I’m proud to have fought for my country! I would do it again!_ I can’t stand those people.” 

 

“I agree with that,” Ray says, leading the way back into the living room, “On a side note, those boxes were the only ones I really had, man, I had you come over mostly for the company. It gets lonely sometimes, not really knowing anyone here.”

 

“Another reason we should go to the coffee shop,” Bucky says, his tone understanding, “If it helps you feel less like a loser I haven’t really made any friends either, unless you count the doctor’s lab tech that’s constantly trying to strike up conversation with me when I’m in for an appointment. Which I don’t.”

 

“Oh man, why won’t you let yourself be friended, homes? What do you have against friendship?” Ray asks, laughing as he goes into the kitchen. “D’you want a drink or something? I don’t have any beer, because I can’t drink on my meds, but there’s probably some actual liquor around, and there’s a fuck ton of Mountain Dew and also, water,” he asks, opening the fridge and pointing to the three liters of soda and the Brita pitcher on the bottom shelf.

 

“Water, I guess,” Bucky answers, taking the glass that Ray hands him and taking a sip. “Anyway yeah, the lab tech is nice enough but he says he’s an inventor and he’s trying to come up with a robotic arm that could work like a real arm, so he’s a little weird. And I’m pretty sure he just wants to be my friend so that he can experiment on me. Plus, he’s got this weird goatee thing on his face and? I’m pretty sure goatees went out of style about twenty years ago,” Bucky continues, watching Ray pour himself a cup of Mountain Dew and for some reason being fascinated by the action. 

 

Ray laughs and Bucky jerks out of staring at the cup. “A goatee? Oh man, that’s fucking priceless, that makes the whole robot arm thing turn from sounding cool as fuck to sounding like a ploy to get you into his basement,” Ray says as he puts the liter of soda back in the fridge.

 

Bucky nods, agreeing. “Right? Fucking insane, man,” he says as the two of them go back into the living room, the TV still on and playing their marathon of Killer Kids. Bucky hangs out for a few more hours, shooting the shit with Ray until he feels sober enough to drive, the weed finally out of his system enough that he feels like he _probably_ won’t die or kill anyone on the five minute drive home. When he’s leaving Ray surprises him and pulls him into a hug.

 

“I know man, just let it happen,” Ray says against his shoulder, “We shared feelings and had a round of Pain Olympics today homes, we both need a hug.”

 

“Pussy,” Bucky says, even as he hugs the other man back, “Text me whenever man, it’s not like I’m ever doing anything.”

 

“I’m gonna text you so hard, man,” Ray says as they break up the hug, Bucky opening the condo door and stepping out into the brisk breeze of twilight. He walks down the stairs carefully and manages to get to his car in on piece, yawning as he opens the driver side door, he didn’t realize how tired he was until he felt the cool night air on his face. When he turns his car on he rolls all the windows down and turns his radio up slightly louder than he normally would, trying to distract himself from feeling tired for the five minutes it will take him to get back to his apartment. 

 

It works, and by the time he’s pulling into his assigned parking spot he’s feeling slightly more awake, which is good, but his left shoulder has started hurting again and he winces when he gets out of the car. Bucky’s never been more thankful to live on the first floor of his building than he is today, his whole body tired from the squatting to put books on the lower shelves and dragging the box from one room to another, and his shoulder throbs again as he manages to unlock his door and get into his apartment, the key sticking only once which is sadly an improvement. He’s just changed into his pajamas and settled on the couch for an hour or so of mindless television before he heads off to bed when his phone vibrates against his leg. 

 

_‘sup big bro ur still a fucking nerd_ , the text from his younger sister reads, something she does on the days that she remembers he’s had a doctor’s appointment. 

 

_at least i finished high school at the top of my class_ , Bucky replies, a smile planting itself firmly on his face even as the phone starts ringing with a call. “What do you want, Bec,” he answers, not bothering to look at the Caller ID.

 

“Just want to make sure you haven’t kicked the proverbial bucket yet, Buck,” she answers, her voice sounding tired.

 

Bucky raises an eyebrow even though he knows she can’t see him as he asks, “What’s really up? You sound like shit.”

 

“Thanks, you sound great too,” Rebecca says, her sarcasm making Bucky shake his head, “It’s nothing really.”

 

“Just because I’m down an arm doesn’t mean you’re not entitled to have shitty days too, sis,” he reminds, “You’re allowed to complain to me if you need to.”

 

Rebecca sighs down the line. “It’s just—” She starts, stopping and saying something quietly to someone on her end that Bucky can’t quite make out, “—I feel like I’m losing my mind, Bucky,” She says as the background noise fades, signaling to Bucky that she’s moved somewhere more quiet. “Jace is being, well, I’m not sure what he’s being, but it’s not the best. Ma is _still_ calling me, crying about you even though I tell her to just fucking pick up a phone and call you herself, and my kid is just…she’s in the grab at everything stage and she’s taught herself how to stand up which I should be proud about but it’s just more shit I have to pay attention to on top of everything else,” she says in a rush.

 

“Do I have to fly to Jersey and beat the shit out of Jace? Because I’ll do it, Bec, just give me a sign,” Bucky says, which makes Rebecca laugh, “And Emma’s standing now? That is exciting, but I’m probably just saying that because I’m not the one that has to baby-proof everything now.”

 

“You don’t have to fly out here just to fuck him up,” she replies, pausing before continuing, “And it is exciting that Emma’s standing, I just wish…I don’t know, I think I wish I had more time with her as a baby? But I also can’t wait for her to grow up, you know? It’s a weird feeling.”

 

“That does sound weird,” Bucky agrees, “And I’m sorry about mom too, I’ll call her tomorrow. That should hold her over for a few days, right?”

 

“I would hope,” Rebecca answers, “Anyway, let’s talk about you for a bit. What have you been up to this week?”

 

Bucky sighs and settles against the back of the couch. “I went to another one of those meetings at the VA and uh, I made a friend?” He says it like it’s more of a question than it really is which makes Rebeca laugh again.

 

“I think you’re the only person in the world that doesn’t know if you’ve made a friend,” she teases and Bucky laughs as well.

 

“Okay, I _did_ make a friend,” he states, “We hung out today actually, he’s uh, well he’s weird but it’s a good kind of weird. He’s also a former Marine and like, we bonded over the fact that we’re both hella queer.”

 

“Ohhhhh, is this a friend or a _friend_?” Rebecca asks.

 

Bucky groans and lets his head drop to rest against the back of the couch. “Just a friend, Bec, he has a boyfriend that’s not really a boyfriend? I mean, I’m like, one hundred percent sure that they’re boyfriends but I don’t think they use the label,” he confides, “You can’t tell anyone—”

 

“Who would I tell?”

 

“—I know okay, but his guy is still in the service and DADT is still very much in effect. Especially in the Marines,” Bucky continues. “Ray—that’s my friend—is like me in the sense that he’s jaded about war, and it turns out that the guy that runs the meetings at the VA is too? Which I didn’t know until this last time because Ray and I got to talking and he overheard and kind of let slip that he knows of a coffee shop that’s pretty much an anti-war home-base for vets that don’t want to go home after they’ve come back. It sounds like a cool fucking place, so I’m probably gonna check it out sometimes soon I’m just, not sure when,” He says, rambling a bit but unable to stop himself because it’s nice to talk to his sister, even if she is laughing at him down the line.

 

Rebecca stops laughing enough to say, “You’re a fucking loser, I can’t believe you’ve somehow managed to find someone that’s just as much of a weirdo as you—” Bucky decides then that he’s not going to tell her about the two of them both having Harry Potter tattoos “—But I’m glad that you’ve finally managed to get a fucking friend, bro, it’s been how long since you’ve been living out there? And I haven’t heard you mention a friend once, so this is nice. It also sounds like maybe you should befriend the dude that runs the VA meetings, because from what it sounds like to me he could also be the same type of weirdo as you.”

 

“But…he was in the Chair Force, Bec, I can’t be friends with a _pilot_ ,” Bucky says, only kind of joking.

 

“You do realize that dad was in the Air Force too, right?” Rebecca says, as if she needed to remind him.

 

“And he was also an asshole, so that’s not exactly a stamp of approval for the Air Force,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes, “But the VA guy, Sam is his name, he said that he hangs out at that coffee shop that I mentioned, and he told me and Ray where it is so like, I might have actually accidentally befriended him.”

 

“Well this is how it has to happen then,” Rebecca says, sounding fond, “You’re just going to accidentally come into a bunch of new friends, and I expect to hear all about them. And a few pictures sent my way wouldn’t hurt either, dude, you know I like to have a face to put with the name.”

 

“Yeah yeah,” Bucky says, “I’ll just tell my new friend that I have to take a picture for my sister, he won’t think that’s fucking weird at all.” 

 

“I mean, if he’s willing to hang out with you he’s probably okay with weird,” Rebecca laughs, “You’re not the only one with a monopoly on weird, my man.”

 

“Please, stop using college words, not all of us decided to _further our education_ ,” Bucky joking pleads, “I embraced my inner warrior instead.”

 

“Your _inner warrior_?” Rebecca cackles this time, loud enough that Bucky pulls the phone away from his ear slightly, “I have never heard anything more hilarious! You cried when I told you mom’s cat had kittens! You cried when you saw Emma for the first time! Your _inner warrior_ is a giant fucking marshmallow shaped teddy bear.”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes and tries not to feel the blush on his cheeks. “Okay, so maybe I did. That doesn’t negate the fact that I was fucking Marine, a trained killer, and thus had an inner warrior that was tough, at least at one point in my life,” he argues, knowing that he’s not going to win against Rebecca even as he does.

 

“Your inner warrior is about as tough as my left shoe,” Rebecca says teasingly, “I really am happy that you have at least one friend out there. That will probably go a long way in making mom stop fucking crying on and at me all the time because she’s worried about you.”

 

“I’m sorry that you have to deal with it,” Bucky apologizes, genuinely sorry, “I try to talk to her at least once a week, I didn’t realize that she was still uh, that worried about me.”

 

Rebecca sighs down the line, “I honestly think she feels bad that she didn’t try and stop you from joining up. It’s like, survivor’s guilt? Except in this case it’s more like she has two arms and you don’t guilt. She really needs therapy is what’s going on, but she still thinks they’re quacks no matter how many times I point out that both you and I go to therapy and it seems to help us.”

 

“I’m also heavily medicated,” Bucky points out, and as he says it he realizes that he hasn’t taken his pills yet so he struggles to get off the couch, grumbling under his breath as he does.

 

“You take two antidepressants bro, that’s not exactly heavily medicated,” Rebecca denies, “If you were on like seven pills, that would be heavily medicated.”

 

“I mean if I count the painkillers that they throw my way,” he starts, pausing to put the phone down and grab his pills, swallowing the five pills in his hand with the help of a sip of water before he picks the phone back up, “I could technically be on seven medications.”

 

“Yeah, but how often do you actually take all of the pills you have access to at once? Never?”

 

Bucky hums in agreement. “Yeah okay, you’re right,” he says as he sits back down on the couch, “I did just take my antidepressants, a muscle relaxer, a melatonin, and an 800 just now though, so ha, I’m kind of heavily medicated.”

 

“Shoulder bothering you today?” She asks knowingly, “What exactly did you and your new friend do to make your shoulder hurt?”

 

Bucky snorts, “I was helping him put some books into the bookcases in the place he’s staying. But my shoulder really hurts because of my appointment today, shelving the books didn’t really affect it one way or another.”

 

“What were they looking at now?” Rebecca asks, sounding as concerned as she ever does when it comes to his doctor’s appointments.

 

“The fucking Lab Tech that I’ve told you about? The one that’s trying to persuade me to let him build me some type of fucking robot arm? He wanted to see if I had any nerves in my stump still, I think it has something to do with the arm he’s trying to get me to try but I’m not sure. That, and the doctor is really trying to get me to agree to wearing a prosthetic for some reason? Which I really don’t want to do because I’d honestly rather have no arm rather than a fucking harness thing with a fake arm attached to my body. Plus, I’ve seen guys with prosthetic arms and they just all look so fucking unhappy, I asked a guy once, when we were both in the waiting room at the VA hospital, if it was worth it, and he said ‘ _fuck no man, I only agreed to one because I was sick of having an empty sleeve, ya’ know?’_ And that’s when I decided that I could live with an empty sleeve,” Bucky answers, shaking his head and sighing as he talks, “It’s just ridiculous.”

 

“It sounds like it,” Rebecca says, sounding sincere as she tacks on, “I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

 

Bucky shrugs even though no one can see him, “It’s alright, I’m just happy to be alive most days so like, I’m not gonna complain about an empty sleeve, ya’ know? Like I’m breathing and living and every day I do that is kind of a miracle so why would I shit on it just because I don’t like how my sleeve flaps around sometimes? That’s what safety pins are for.”

 

“I’m sure that’s not what they were actually made for,” Rebecca says, the laugh she lets out sounding watery, “I’m glad though, and I’m thankful every day that you came back to us. Even if you did decide to stay in California.”

 

Bucky’s own eyes aren’t as dry as he’d like as he responds, “California has better VA benefits, and also who the hell can afford New York anymore?”

 

“Not us, that’s why we’re in Jersey,” Rebecca points out, “Which is something fifteen year old me would shit herself over if she found out that I’m twenty-two, married with a daughter, and living in New Jersey.”

 

“You’re a disappointment to your past self, Rebecca, how does that make you feel?”

 

“She’d probably be more offended about the being married with a kid thing than she would be about the living in New Jersey thing,” Rebecca responds honestly, “I used to sneak out and hang out in Williamsburg in high school so, fifteen year old me would probably just think I finally made it out from under our parents.”

 

“Fuckin’ _Williamsburg_ ,” Bucky laughs, “Why was that the height of being cool when we were in high school? I’m still baffled by it.”

 

“You and me both, buddy,” Rebecca agrees, “I need to get ready for bed because I have work in the morning, not all of us can laze around all day with one arm and no job.”

 

Bucky laughs, “I’ll take your job if you’ll give up your arm then, I think I could pull off having your arm as my arm.”

 

“Bleh, never mind, I’ll keep my job and you keep getting money from the assholes that made it so you lost your arm in the first place,” Rebecca says, disgust clear in her voice.

 

“You do realize that the people that made the IED are not, in fact, the ones that give me my money for being disabled, right?” Bucky points out and Rebecca sighs loudly down the line.

 

“I knoowww, just let me live, man,” Rebecca whines, and with that they say their goodbyes, signing off with love and with Rebecca extracting a promise from Bucky that he’ll call their mother within the next few days. When they hang up Bucky is smiling and feeling more relaxed than he has in a few days, his meds slowly kicking in and making him just the right kind of drowsy. He gets up and heads to bed, hopeful that he took enough of everything to help him sleep through the night and without nightmares.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baker Steve and BAMF Natasha make their first appearances. Sam's back! Ray and Bucky text discuss clown jizz (don't ask).
> 
> TW: an anxiety attack is had in this chapter

It’s a few weeks later when Bucky realizes, mid text to Ray, who’s gone back home for a week and a half to pick up a few things that he only realized a few days before he left that he forgot, that he still hasn’t been to the fucking coffee shop (he also didn’t go to the VA meeting this week, not seeing the point in going when Ray’s not going to be there). _I still haven’t been to the coffee shop yet dude_ , he sends to Ray as he looks at the book on his lap, the one he’d been trying to read before Ray rudely interrupted him with a text complaining about his mother trying to set him up with one of her friend’s daughters. 

 

_boo fucking hoo homes, i’m currently fending off a lady with lips so over-drawn they look like clown makeup hELP ME_ , is Ray’s reply, and Bucky laughs so hard that he has tears in his eyes as he finally sticks a bookmark into the book and closes it, setting it on his coffee table. 

 

Bucky stands up and heads into his room, deciding on the spot to head over to the coffee shop on his own. _I’m gonna go to the coffee shop today i’ll let you know if it’s cool ALSO see if her nose honks when you squeeze it?? or maybe her tits???_ He types back to Ray, hitting send before he pulls his shirt over his head and begins getting changed. 

 

_I AM NOT SQUEEZING HER TITS TO SEE IF THEY HONK also now i’m 100% convinced that girl clowns have honking tits so thanks for that you coffee drinking asshole,_ Ray texts back, quickly followed by _,_ _have 12 chocolate chip cookies for ur good pal ray-ray._

 

Bucky laughs and replies, _i’m sure they do and like i bet guy clowns dicks honk OH MAN what if guy clowns jizz cotton candy??????? idk if i can eat cookies after that thought dude it’s just too weird_. He knows that’s going to get a quick reply and Ray does not disappoint, his reply coming in just as Bucky is wiggling into his jeans.

 

_I’M GONNA NEED YOU TO DIE BUDDY THAT IS THE WORST THING I’VE EVER HAD SEARED INTO MY BRAIN AND I HAVE SEEN TROMBLEY’S COCK,_ Bucky is doubled over laughing, not knowing for sure who Trombley is but knowing enough to know that he’s definitely a guy from Ray’s squad. A second text comes through as he’s wiping away tears, _WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU????_

 

_my brain is a weird place sometimes bro idk,_ Bucky types back, pausing to pull sweater over his head before he adds on, _fucking find a clown and ask him i bet it’s true_ , hitting send as he exits his bedroom and heads back into the living room. 

 

_i want…to die….this is so awkward now i’m thinking about clown jizz and this woman clown is telling me how i’m a hero for fighting for the country like plz no, i just wanted to eat my mom’s pecan pie in silence on the porch I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU,_ Ray sends, and Bucky can almost hear him saying it out loud as he reads it.

 

_if it’ll cheer you up i’m wearing the ugly ass gryffindor sweater you got me because i can’t find my slytherin one,_ Bucky replies, sending it off before he turns off the TV, slipping his phone into his pocket and going into the kitchen to his stash of safety pins, grabbing a large one and using it to pin the left sleeve of his sweater up carefully, his phone vibrating in his pocket just as he finishes. 

 

_pics or it didn’t happen ;)_ , Bucky laughs at his use of the winky face before he shrugs and decides _fuck it_ , opening the camera app on his phone and flipping it so he can see his own face, tucking some strands of hair behind his ear before he poses with what is supposed to be an ironic peace sign but he still takes five before he settles on one of them, sending it off without a caption as he grabs his car and apartment keys from the kitchen counter. _THANK U NOW I’M USING THAT AS PROOF I HAVE A BOYFRIEND xoxox,_ He rolls his eyes as he reads the text, groaning as he opens the front door and stepping out into the cool early October air.

 

_ur the worst, don’t tell the clown woman that i’m ur boyfriend plz that’s how rumors start,_ Bucky replies after he’s locked the apartment door from outside, checking his back pocket for his wallet before he walks out from under his awning and into the sunshine. 

 

He’s sitting in the car, looking at the driving instructions that he printed to the coffee shop nearly a week ago, when Ray sends another text, and Bucky can almost hear the distress, _homes she’s fucking, she just asKED IF WE WOULD BE INTO A THREESOME HELP ME_.

 

_i have no words bro, just like idk tell her that u have a small dick, that’ll probably get her to sniff around somewhere else??_ Bucky sends this text and then tosses his phone on the passenger seat, choosing to ignore it as he turns his car on and backs out of his parking spot slowly because driving with one arm still feeling very odd to him, and he does nearly everything slowly nowadays, which he hates. It takes him ten minutes to get to the coffee shop, which is weird because it’s in a shopping mall that he’s passed every time he’s gone to Camp Pendleton yet he had never seen it before. He might think it was a sign of some kind of fate that he was meant to meet Ray and talk to Sam, if he believed in that kind of stuff, which he doesn’t. Much. It is, however, just enough to make him sit in the parking lot for a few moments, staring at the fairly plain sign above the front door reading _Mainside Java_ and wondering how the hell he got where he is. 

 

After he’s done being weird, as Ray would say, he unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches over, grabbing his phone and seeing if Ray has replied yet. Of course he has, there’s a few texts from him, and Bucky cackles as he reads them, the first one reads, _i’m gonna do that ok i hope it works_ which seems to have been immediately followed by two texts reading _ABORT MISSION MY MOM HEARD ME SAYING I HAVE A SMALL DICK_ and _SHE TOLD ME NOT TO SELL MYSELF SHORT SO NOW I NEED TO DIE GOODBYE BUCKY UR THE WORST ADVICE GIVER EVER!!!!!!!!_ Bucky is laughing so hard that he drops his phone in his lap, his forehead resting against the steering wheel as he shakes. 

 

_if you die i am making sure they put those last two texts on your fucking headstone bro, so the world can know the amusement that i am feeling deep in my bones right in this very moment,_ Bucky sends the text before wiggling in his seat enough that he can shove his phone into his pocket and wipe his eyes before he gets out of the car, the nerves of going into a new place making him feel slightly on edge. He takes his phone out of his pocket and shoots off a quick, _btw going into the coffee shop rn i’ll let u know how it goes,_ text to Ray before shoving his phone  back into his pocket, squaring his shoulders and walking into the coffee shop. 

 

He’s no more than three steps into the well lit room before he hears a voice say, “At ease, Marine,” the tone light as Bucky turns his head quickly, spotting the person that spoke sitting at a table in the middle of the room, papers spread around him.

 

“Sam,” Bucky greets, “Told you I’d get over here to check out the place.”

 

“You did,” Sam agrees. “But I also thought that after you introduced yourself with a real introduction at the meeting a couple weeks back you’d be a more active participant, and instead you haven’t been to a meeting since,” He points out, standing up from his seat and waving Bucky over, shaking his hand when he gets within reach. “Where’s your buddy?” He asks as he walks with Bucky to the counter that a redheaded woman is standing behind, looking bored as she types on her phone. 

 

“Ray is uh, back home, visiting his mom,” Bucky answers, feeling more at ease with someone at his six. “Right now he’s dealing with a woman that’s trying to fuck him,” he informs Sam, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice as he does.

 

“ _Tragic_ ,” The redhead says, finally looking up from her phone, “Sam, are you taking in strays again?”

 

“I haven’t _taken him in_ ,” Sam says with a laugh, “He’s one of the guys from the VA; Bucky, this is Natasha. Natasha, play nice, he’s _shy_.”

 

“I’m not shy,” Bucky denies, “I’m just…not social. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

Natasha snorts, “What, did your mother tell you that?”

 

“My mother tells me I need to get over it,” Bucky says honestly, “Which I’m trying to do, hence my being here.”

 

Natasha looks at him again, this time with eyes so serious that Bucky wants to physically take a step back. “You look like a caramel man,” She says after a moment, and Bucky blinks in surprise. 

 

“Uh, yeah,” Bucky answers, not expecting the change in topic, “Caramel is good, great actually.”

 

“I’ll make you something with caramel, and Steve’s actually in the back taking some caramel and dark chocolate muffins out of the oven, it’s our Thursday speciality,” Natasha says, “It’s on the house this time, but don’t think I’m going to make this a habit.” 

 

Bucky’s hand is halfway to his wallet when the words freeze him, his eyebrows drawn. “Are you sure? I can’t just take your food and coffee for nothing,” he says, his hand still hovering over his back pocket.

 

Natasha’s eyes narrow. “No, I’m sure, your money’s not good here on this very specific day,” she says, and Sam laughs at her.

 

“I’m gay,” Bucky says immediately, not wanting Natasha to think that she has a chance at wooing him with free coffee and food. This makes Sam laugh harder, doubling over and actually slapping his knee.

 

“So am I, and?” Natasha questions, giving him a weird look, “Wait holy shit, did you think I was trying to charm you with free coffee and a muffin?”

 

“I don’t know your game!” Bucky defends himself, waving his arm slightly, “It made sense in my head!”

 

“Oh boy,” Sam says, finally straightening up, “That’s our cue to go over to the table and sit down, my friend here is a little fucking nutty.”

 

Natasha finally cracks a smile, starting to make whatever caramel drink she’s going to make for Bucky. “Probably for the best,” she says, waving them off.

 

“Nat! Was that Sam I heard laughing like he was going to die?” A deep voice from a back room asks, and Bucky tenses and then relaxes when he remembers that Natasha said that Steve was in the back.

 

“It was! His friend here thought I was hitting on him because I’m giving him a free coffee, and one of those muffins you’re pulling out now,” Natasha yells back, and Bucky turns when he hears the door that he had seen behind the counter open, and a tall man steps out onto the main floor.

 

Bucky doesn’t hear what’s said next because there’s a sudden roaring in his ears when he recognizes the tall man as Captain Rogers, the last man he remembers seeing out in the field before he passed out due to blood loss. There’s a tingling where his left arm should be, and he knows there’s nothing there to hurt, but it’s suddenly throbbing and his breathing turns shallow when Captain Rogers finally turns and looks at him. “I need to leave,” Bucky says, turning to look at Sam and feeling like his mouth is full of cotton as he takes a few steps back, moving on instinct to where he remembers the door being, “ _Now_.”

 

Sam looks confused and concerned in turn, the laughter from earlier fading from his eyes as he looks at the shaking mess that Bucky is slowly becoming. “Let’s go outside for a second, alright, Marine?” He says, and Bucky can just barely hear his level tone through the rushing in his ears as he grabs Bucky’s elbow, shooting a look over at Natasha and Steve as he helps Bucky out of the front door.

 

Bucky is shaking hard, his teeth almost chattering with it as he leans against the wall just next to the coffee shop’s door, sliding down to sit with his head between his knees as Sam drops down next to him. “Sorry,” Bucky manages to choke out, his right hand wrapped tightly in his hair as his phantom left arm throbs in pain, “I’m sorry.”

 

They sit like that for a few minutes, Bucky feeling more and more like shit as he slowly comes to, his brain finally processing the fact that Sam has been speaking the whole time they’ve been sitting there. “ _You’re fine Bucky, you’re okay, just breathe_ ,” He’s saying it quietly enough that it’s not jarring once Bucky’s ears finally decide to work, but it does nothing to help him overcome the immediate embarrassment that he feels.

 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says again after a few more moments, finally feeling like he can lift his head without passing out as he looks over at Sam. “I knew him,” he says, jerking his head back over his shoulder to indicate the shop, “Steve, he uh, he was there when this happened,” Bucky explains as he eases his right hand out of the tangle of his hair and gestures to where his left arm would be, the phantom pain that’s still shooting down his spine feeling anything but phantom as he talks.

 

“You scared me there, man,” Sam says gently, reaching out to squeeze Bucky’s knee, “Are you okay?”

 

“I feel a little lightheaded,” Bucky says honestly as the door to the shop opens and Natasha steps out into the sun, her shadow casting across he and Sam as she does so, “And my arm is fucking killing me.”

 

“I have ibuprofen in the shop if that will help?” Natasha asks, her voice sounding more gentle than Bucky feels he deserves.

 

He shakes his head, “Not that kind of pain.”

 

“Steve told me what happened, or well, in so much that he said he knew you and then went back into the kitchen to like, bake his feelings away or something. Did he break your heart? Is that what happened? Are you a jilted ex-lover coming to ruin Steve’s life?” Natasha asks, in a tone that tell Bucky that she’s trying to distract him, and it works because he chuckles slightly when she adds, “If you are I’ll help you, but don’t tell him, it’s just because I don’t want to buy him out of his half of the shop.”

 

“War sucks,” Bucky says finally, answering without having to give an answer. 

 

Natasha makes a noise in the back of her throat and Bucky catches the look that her and Sam give each other before she speaks again, “Come back in, you can sit in the corner with your back to the wall and your face to the exit and I promise that Steve will stay in his hole.” 

 

Bucky stands up, still shaky, and nods slightly. “It wouldn’t be safe for me to drive right now anyway,” he says honestly, allowing Sam to take him by the elbow for just long enough to stop swaying before he shakes him off gently. 

 

“Smart man,” Sam agrees, holding the door open for Bucky and ushering he and Natasha into the shop.

 

Bucky can hear Natasha’s sharp whisper of, “ _Steve was fucked up when you two walked out, what the fuck man?”_ and chooses to ignore it, heading straight for the armchair in the back corner and sinking into the plush cushions as Sam and Natasha have a whisper argument over by the table Sam had been sitting at when he had walked in.

 

The whisper-argument ends with Sam saying loudly, “Fucking _Christ_ , Natasha, it’s not my secret to tell!” and Natasha storming into the back, behind the counter, and probably on her way to ask Captain Rogers what happened.

 

Bucky is silent as he watches Sam gather his papers and bring them over to a table near Bucky, close enough that they can chat at a normal level but not in the way of Bucky’s eyeline of the front door. “You could have told her,” Bucky says after a few moments of Sam’s pen scratching being the only sound in the coffee shop, audible over the low music playing over a speaker that’s somewhere in the front corner of the shop. 

 

“Like I said, not my circus, not my monkey,” Sam says, and Bucky laughs slightly.

 

Natasha comes over a few moments later and brings the caramel coffee that she had been making before the incident and a dark chocolate and caramel muffin, a napkin with a drawn on smiley face placed on the plate next to the pastry. “It was uh,” Natasha pauses, “Gonna to be a hot drink but when you had your moment I figured cold would be better, I know panic attacks make me feel like I’m burning from the inside out.”

 

“Mine actually make me cold? But I’m not gonna turn down any form of coffee, because at this point I’m like ninety-nine percent sure that my blood is made of the stuff,” Bucky says, smiling before he takes a sip of the caramel drink and nearly moans. “Holy shit, Natasha, I take what I said back, I’m not gay anymore, let’s get married and start a family,” he says before he takes another, longer, sip.

 

Natasha laughs, “No way buddy, I was serious. I’m Very Gay.” 

 

Bucky can hear the capital letters at the beginning of the words as he takes another sip, letting the cold caramel coffee coat his tongue before he responds. “I am Very Queer so like, I get it,” He says, breaking off a piece of the muffin and popping it into his mouth, moaning again. “Oh God,” He says, his mouth full, “I am never eating anywhere else again.”

 

Sam laughs and shares a look with Natasha. “I told you that his shit was good,” he says to Bucky, reaching out and grabbing his own piece of the muffin before he can be stopped.

 

“It’s better than good, I would literally marry this muffin right here and now,” Bucky says, shoulders tensing slightly as his ears catch a slight noise near the door behind the counter.

 

Natasha must hear it too because she looks at Bucky apologetically. “He was listening by the door to see if you’d like the muffin because _he has no self restraint_ ,” she says the last part louder, and directed toward the door, “Normally he’s never out here, he’d rather stay in the kitchen, but now that I’ve told him he can’t come out he’s like a dog scratching at a door.” She’s shaking her head as she glances between the door and Bucky.

 

“I can leave?” Bucky offers, not really wanting to but feeling bad that he’s keeping Captain Rogers holed up in the back of his own coffee shop.

 

“I will rip your other arm off and beat you to death with it if you leave before you actually want to,” Natasha says, her tone disturbingly sweet for the content of the sentence

 

Bucky blinks and looks at Sam, swallowing thickly when Sam just shrugs back. “Uh, yeah okay, I think I’ll hang out here for a little?” He says, sounding more like he’s asking a question. He’s saved from having to say anymore when the bell above the door dings as it opens and Natasha makes her way back to stand behind the counter, not before she manages to give him the least friendly looking thumbs up he’s ever been on the receiving end of.

 

“She likes you,” Sam says as Natasha’s voice carries over to them, barely audible over the music that’s playing quietly in the background. 

 

“I think she wants to kill me?” Bucky says, trying not to sound concerned before he shoves another bit of muffin into his mouth. 

 

“That’s how she shows her love,” Sam answers, “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

 

“Also,” Bucky starts, glancing over to see where Natasha is before he continues, “I thought you said you slept with her? How could you if she’s, ya know, Very Gay?”

 

“You know how some people have that person that they sleep with before they _really_ find themselves, and sometimes when you’re gay it’s someone of the opposite sex?” Sam asks, and Bucky finds himself thinking back to his ill advised romp with Doris back when he was a Freshman in high school, he nods and Sam continues, “Well, that was _kind_ of me, she’s bi, but in the sense that she’s been with dudes but ladies are where her heart, and her pants, live.”

 

Bucky looks back at Natasha who is making a drink for the customer that came in, the man has his hood pulled up and his shoulders are slumped but even Bucky can tell he’s already surveyed the entire coffee shop. “I can see that,” he says finally, turning back to Sam with a smile, “It’s definitely weird, but I can see it at least. She still looks like she could kick your ass, though.”

 

“Oh she has,” Sam says honestly, “A few times.”

 

“Ahh,” Bucky says before gracefully shoving the last of the muffin into his mouth. “True friendship,” he continues around a mouthful of food as Sam watches him, vague disgust on his face.

 

“Please man, swallow before you talk,” Sam says, taking a sip of his own drink as he shakes his head.

 

“That’s what he said,” Bucky says, an automatic response after he finishes swallowing. He swears he hears the customer up by the counter snort, but it’s hard to tell since his back is turned. 

 

A few more customers come in and Bucky can tell that Natasha won’t be back to chat any time soon, so he quietly watches the guy in the hoodie take a careful sip of his drink before he turns to leave. “Bye Wade!” Natasha says over her shoulder, and the guy in the hoodie waves back as he pushes the door open and leaves.

 

“What’s his thing?” Bucky asks Sam, the other man hunched over papers that he seems to be initialing.

 

“Who? Oh, _Wade_?” Sam asks, and Bucky nods, “He’s a former—well, I _think_ , he’s a former sniper. He doesn’t really hang around too long usually, he works down at the tattoo shop at the end of this shopping center so he comes in all the time. I’ve seen him enough to know his name, and to know he’s constantly on high alert, but other than that I don’t know much. I only _think_ he’s a sniper because I heard Natasha mention something about it once, but who knows, she could have been dropping hints about herself.”

 

“Hmm,” Bucky hums, “There’s a tattoo shop around here?”

 

“Yeah man, the last shop on the row is, it’s called Lola’s Ink, which sounds dumb and it is, because it’s named after the owner’s car,” Sam laughs, shaking his head.

 

Bucky takes a sip of his coffee drink and nearly moans again before he takes his phone out of his pocket, only just remembering after all the excitement that Ray was wanting to die. He laughs as he opens the unread messages: 

 

_THIS IS THE WORST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO ME_

_PLEASE BUCKY I AM HAVING A CRISIS_

_i just told mom that i’m gay and now she’s seTTING ME UP WITH HER FRIEND’S SONS_

_THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT_

_IF BRAD WERE HERE HE COULD EAT THEM_

_WAIT YOU COULD EAT THEM!! COME SAVE ME FROM THESE MISSOURI GAYS BUCKY_

_you’re the worst i hate u don’t ever talk to me again_

_I’M KIDDING I LOVE U WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL_

_MY MOM JUST CAME BACK FROM THE STORE WITH A CAKE THAT SAYS “YOU’RE GAY? THAT’S GREAT!” WHAT IS GOING ON_

_plz bucky this is the weirdest thing i’ve ever been involved in i’m literally eating a chocolate cake and having a coming out party that???????? my mom threw together in like fifteen minutes??????? what the FUCK MAN_

 

Bucky is laughing so hard that his stomach aches and his shoulders are shaking. Sam shoots him a look and so he hands his phone over, his laughter nearly doubling when Sam joins in. “This is the best thing I’ve ever read,” Sam says eventually as their laughter dies down, “Like, literally the best thing.”

 

“I need to know where his mom managed to find a cake and get it specially written on in that short of a time, do you think she just like, knows a gay cake guy and called him up like ‘Bob, I have a _mission_ ’ because I hope very much that that’s exactly what happened,” Bucky says, taking his phone back as it’s offered and typing up a reply to Ray. _LITERALLY THE BEST THING I’VE EVER READ THANK YOU FOR THIS also congrats on coming out and getting a fucking party out of it bro, that’s the greatest thing that’s happened today,_ He sends it off before adding, because he knows he should let Ray know in case it happens again when the two of them come back to the coffee shop, _i had an anxiety attack because that steve dude that co-owns this coffee place? the same dude that took me to the chopper to be medevaced after the ied lmao good times man_. _the muffins are hella bomb tho_. 

 

He’s no sooner than taken another sip of his drink, watching Sam do something with numbers and an honest to God calculator, when his phone starts ringing. “Shit sorry,” Bucky says, picking it up and answering it quickly, “What’s up, dude?”

 

“What’s up with me? What’s up with _you_ , homes? Are you okay? Did you cry?” Ray says, his tone sounding genuinely concerned, which is almost enough to set Bucky’s teeth on edge.

 

“What have I said about pity?” Bucky reminds, trying to keep his voice level and ignoring the look that Sam shoots him.

 

“Chill homes, I’m not pitying you! I just need to make sure that my good pal Buckbeak isn’t gonna be curled up in a ball in a looney bin when I get back from the Hell on earth that is this coming out party,” Ray says, and Bucky can hear the eye roll in his voice. 

 

“I’m not going to be institutionalized,” he replies. “And Sam is here so I didn’t just like, collapse or something. I’m genuinely okay right now…as long as Captain Rogers stays in the back. Where Natasha forced him to stay while I’m here. And wow, that sounds way worse than it actually is? She said he usually stays back there anyway, and she threatened to beat me to death with my own arm if I left because I felt guilty for my anxiety so I’m…staying here for a while,” Bucky hears Sam laugh even as the other man’s eyes are firmly on the papers in front of him and, when he looks around the shop and catches Natasha’s eye she holds eye contact and points at him, just points, and then turns away to go into the back where Captain Rogers is still stowed away. “Also,” Bucky tacks on, “Don’t call me Buckbeak, it’s weird.” Sam is laughing again, his shoulders shaking as he types something into his calculator.

 

“Is she hot? She sounds hot,” Ray asks and Bucky sighs.

 

“Very hot, but also terrifying,” he answers honestly before lowering his voice to say, still embarrassed, “I thought she was hitting on me at first because she said my food and coffee was on the house.”

 

Ray laughs for a solid minute and Bucky rolls his eyes. “Well I mean, dude, you are a looker,” He says finally, “And apparently full of yourself.”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes as he changes the subject, “Anyway, Sam told me there’s a tattoo shop that’s in this shopping center that you should definitely check out for that piece that you were thinking about. The guys that work there are apparently regulars at the coffee shop so like, I could probably ask Natasha for recommendations on what artist for you?”

 

“I’ll ask her myself after I meet her, I don’t know if I can trust her judgement yet,” Ray says to Bucky before saying a quick, “Hold on,” and speaking to someone on his side of the line, his mother if Bucky had to guess.

 

“Dude, I’ll let you go, you’ll be back in a few days and we can talk all about how much of a mess I am and how horrible your party was,” Bucky says, “Text me when you land at McClellan and I’ll pick you up.”

 

“Yeah okay, sorry, homes, I really wanted to talk about your anxiety attack more right now but my ma is being….a mom so I have to go,” Ray says, sounding apologetic, and the two of them say good bye, Ray promising to text when his mom “stops trying to get me laid oh my God, this is the worst.”

 

Bucky hangs up the phone and takes a sip of his coffee drink, throwing Sam a look. “Shut up,” he says, annoyed at the look that Sam is shooting him. 

 

“Are you sure you’re not into him?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow and nodding toward Bucky’s phone.

 

“Please, no,” Bucky says, laughing, “He’s a great friend and if I were someone else, then maybe I’d be interested but as it is, there’s no way in hell, buddy. Plus, he’s got a dude so that would just be messy all around.”

 

Sam looks at him, “He’s seeing someone?”

 

“Weird, right?” Bucky snorts, “But yeah and from what I’ve gathered they’re like…disgustingly adorable and I genuinely want to die any time he talks about him because his eyes go all starry.”

 

“I’ve only met Ray once, but that sounds horrifying,” Sam says, laughing, “It’s good that he has someone though, are they living together or?”

 

Bucky hears the door to the back open again and glances over long enough to see that it’s Natasha coming back out on the floor before he says, “This really isn’t my story to tell, and I’m not really a gossip, but I’ll tell you because you’re a counselor and it’s your job to hear secrets.”

 

“That only works if you pay him to hear your secrets,” Natasha says from his six, and Bucky has to mentally remind himself to not tense up.

 

“Okay fine, I’m a gossip,” Bucky says before he starts talking, filling them in on what he knows about Ray and Brad. It’s only when the three of them are laughing about something completely unrelated that he can see Captain Rogers sticking his head out from behind the door, looking at them, and when his head doesn’t start swimming immediately he gives a tentative smile Captain Rogers’ way. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray has _opinions_ and he lets them be known, loudly, at the VA meeting. He takes Natasha up on an offer after said meeting, and then Poke makes an appearance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definition time! 
> 
> RTO: Radio Transceiver Operator
> 
> MRE: Meals Ready to Eat
> 
> IED: Improvised Explosive Device 
> 
> CO: Commanding Officer
> 
> C4: explosive, makes things go boom
> 
> General Mattis: at the time this fic takes place he is the highest ranking Marine Corps General, commanding both the United States Joint Forces Command and NATO's Supreme Allied Commander Transformation; he also commanded the 1st Marine Division during the 2003 invasion of Iraq and subsequent stability operations during the Iraq War   
> (which is when Gen Kill actually takes place but I'm switching things up because smart phones! harry potter!)

“Brad is coming home in a month!” Ray yells as he walks into Bucky apartment nearly a month after Halloween, the door having been unlocked earlier when Ray had texted that he was on his way.

 

“That’s gay!” Bucky calls from the bathroom, wiping his hand on his jeans as he walks out into the living room. “Sorry,” he laughs at Ray’s face, “ _Great_ , I meant great.”

 

Ray sticks his tongue out and starts pacing slightly, nervous from the fact that he has a solid fucking _date_ that Brad will be back, as Bucky grabs his keys from the kitchen counter. “Don’t be jealous,” he says as Bucky steps up next to him, “You’re still my best girl!”

 

“Please, no,” Bucky groans, “Don’t weirdly quote Titanic at me.”

 

“Hey homes,” Ray points out, “You’re the one that knew it was from Titanic so who’s _really_ the weird one? That’s right, it’s you.”

 

Bucky shakes his head and shrugs, “Alright, I guess I am weird, but that doesn’t negate the fact that you’re weird too. But Brad’s coming home! Is he going to be here for Christmas?” He scoots Ray out of the apartment and locks the door behind them, the two of them walking to Ray’s car because he offered to drive them to the VA meeting this week. Which Ray _told him_ is because he saw Sam at the coffee shop the day before and the man threatened to kill him if they didn’t show up, but it’s really because Ray feels like he needs to go, and he’s not going alone so he’s roped Bucky into tagging along.

 

“Hanukkah,” Ray corrects automatically, “Brad’s Jewish but yeah, he should be here for the holidays. They’re actually giving him two weeks Libo, which I think is because they have been telling them for two months that it was coming up soon and they probably feel bad about it. The Brits feel bad about anything if you pretend it’s a burden, or at least that’s what Brad says.”

 

“Oops, right, I forgot about that,” Bucky says sounding apologetic, “Is he going to be doing that with his family then or?”

 

“We uh, I mean _he_ , decided that we’re doing the big dinner at our condo, which is terrifying,” Ray says as he unlocks the driver’s side and hits the unlock button on his door so that the passenger door can open for Bucky, who has just started laughing hysterically. 

 

“Please, it’s too early to die,” he gasps out, and Ray can see that he’s bracing his right arm on the car so that he apparently won’t _fall over_ from laughing so hard, “That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard, _it’s so gay_ , oh my God.”

 

“It’s not _that_ funny,” Ray mumbles as he drops down into the driver’s seat, closing his door and rolling his eyes as he can still hear Bucky laughing outside. “Get in the fuckin’ car, homes, we’re gonna be late!” He says loudly, knocking on the car window to get Bucky’s attention. 

 

Bucky finally gets in the car, his laughter having died down to chuckles as he buckles his seatbelt. He glances over at Ray, who is now buckling his own seatbelt and starting the car, and starts laughing again. “You’re so in love, it’s so gross,” he teases after a few moment, “Cute, but gross.”

 

“Whatever, at least I’m not mooning over the dude that med-evaced me,” Ray mumbles, making Bucky stop laughing immediately and instead begin to splutter. 

 

“I am _not_ ,” Bucky manages to string together finally, “Captain Rogers just—he just makes good pastries okay? I am not _mooning_!”

 

“You’re fucking mooning dude, and it’s ironic considering you almost _died_ the first time you saw him in the coffee shop,” Ray points out, glancing over at Bucky as he pulls up to a stop sign.

 

Bucky splutters again, and this time when he speaks his voice is higher than usual. “I did not _almost die_ , Sam was exaggerating! I was fine! And I’m NOT MOONING!” He’s glaring at Ray as the man accelerates from the stop sign and turns onto the freeway entrance ramp. 

 

“You’re mooning dude, and it’s fine because he’s fucking _obviously_ into you too,” Ray says easily as he merges onto the freeway and starts messing with the radio as soon as he’s solidly in the lane he needs to be in. 

 

Bucky huffs, “I am _not_ and _so what_ if he’s into me?” He pauses, looking over at Ray again as he asks, “Is he into me?”

 

“I KNEW IT!” Ray crows, giving up the search for music and instead going for a low fist pump, “You’re all about Steve Rogers and you want to kiss his face, this is the best day ever.” Ray can feel his face breaking out into a grin even as he looks over and sees Bucky cover his face with his hand.

 

“I—even if I _did_ it’s not like I will,” Bucky says into his palm, not admitting that Ray was right even as he is essentially admitting that Ray is right, “I’m a fucking _mess_ and Steve obviously has his life together. He owns a coffee shop for God’s sake.”

 

“Co-owns,” Ray corrects, “And Natasha is terrifying enough that she’s basically running the place, so maybe he’s not as together as you think.”

 

Bucky sighs and shakes his head. “When are you going to take Natasha up on that offer to work in the coffee shop? It’s been like two weeks since she offered,” he asks instead, changing the topic in a clunky way and not bothering to hide the fact that it’s what he’s doing.

 

“I think I’m gonna tell her today that I’ll fucking take it, man, because it’s hard as hell to find a job,” Ray groans, swearing as the guy that had been tailgating them quickly changes lanes and flies by them, Bucky flips them off as Ray continues, “Plus, I need to have a job before Brad gets back and thinks I haven’t been doing shit.”

 

“You haven’t been doing shit,” Bucky points out.

 

“That’s not the _point_ ,” Ray says, “I don’t want him _thinking_ I haven’t been doing anything.”

 

“Holy shit,” Bucky says, “You think you’re not good enough for him.”

 

“Shut up, no I don’t,” Ray denies even as his cheeks flush.

 

“Really?”

 

“…okay, maybe slightly,” he corrects, “Brad’s just _so_ _good_ and I’m an asshole ex-Marine that doesn’t have a fucking job but _does_ have too many fucking shitty tattoos.”

 

Bucky reaches to pat Ray’s shoulder in what has got to be an awkward feat of flexibility, Ray thinks to himself, before he says, “From what I’ve heard he sounds like he’s grossly in love with you so like, he probably thinks you’re great.”

 

“I’m a _mess_ ,” Ray says, “He doesn’t even know that I’m on medication, Bucky! He’s gonna think I’m fucking weak because I have to take a goddamn pill just to be functional most days.

 

Bucky snaps, “Would you say that to someone that needed an inhaler? Thyroid medication? You’re not weak just because your body doesn’t produce a certain drug naturally that your body needs to not be a shit hole.”

 

Ray glances at Bucky and feels sheepish. “Fine right, sorry, I know you’re on medication too it’s just. It’s fine that you’re on it but for me it’s like? Why am I on it? Nothing terrible happened to me, so I shouldn’t _need_ the help,” he says a few moments later.

 

“You were depressed before you signed your life away,” Bucky says, “You told me that like three days into our friendship, buddy. It’s just a thing your body doesn’t produce, there’s no shame in that.”

 

Ray groans, “Now you sound like my therapist.”

 

“Good asshole, someone needs to,” Bucky says, shaking his head. The rest of the drive is less interesting, the two of them bitching about the drivers around them, and Bucky telling a story about the assholes that he ran into in the nice independent bookstore near his apartment the day before that decided fucking up the order of the books would be a fun thing to do. One glare from Bucky had them shaking, and he stood there and watched them put the books back where they belonged, not knowing that the owner had watched the whole thing until he was checking out the book he wanted to buy, and the man gave him a discount for ‘being a good man’. 

 

“Wait, there’s a fucking indie bookstore near us?” Ray says after Bucky is finished telling his story, “Why did I not know about this?”

 

Bucky shrugs and says, “I only found it a few days ago? I actually got lost going home from one of the weird specialists that the doctor wanted me to go see. It’s closer to me really but it’s not too far from you either, it’s called Vision Books.”

 

“I _need_ to go,” Ray says, exiting the freeway and checking his mirrors, glaring in the rearview mirror as some asshole rides his ass all the way down the off-ramp before continuing, once they’re stopped at the light, “I think I’ll check it out tomorrow.”

 

“You’ll probably jizz your pants,” Bucky teases and Ray snorts as he accelerates once the light turns green.

 

Ray replies, “Homes, you just don’t understand my love of books. It’s okay, not everyone can.”

 

“You’re the weirdest fucking dude I’ve ever been around,” Bucky says as he reaches out and starts messing with the radio himself, settling on a country station that’s playing a song that Ray actually loves. Which means Ray begins singing along almost as soon as he realizes what song it is, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he turns left and then right, the VA building within sight.

 

“You love me,” Ray says happily as the song fades out and it replaced with a commercial. “You wouldn’t know what to do without me,” he continues as he turns into one of the few parking spots in front of the building, taking the handicap placard that Bucky hands him and hanging it on his rearview mirror.

 

“You just love me for my handicap parking,” Bucky replies with a laugh, which makes Ray gasp and clutch at his chest with one hand as he unbuckles his seatbelt with the other.

 

“That is _false_ ,” Ray insists, “I love you because of your weirdly luscious hair and your rockin’ bod, homes.”

 

“Oh, God,” Bucky groans as he undoes his own seatbelt, “That’s five hundred percent worse.”

 

“You’re just so _hoootttt_ ,” Ray says, dragging out the last word as he breaks into a laugh, “Plus you’re fucked up like me so it’s obviously a friendship meant to be.”

 

Bucky shakes his head as he gets out of the car and Ray takes the moment that he’s in the car alone to take a deep breath and shake his own head slightly, trying to calm his nerves. 

 

“I would like to point out that I think you might be more fucked up than I am,” Bucky says to him as he finally gets out of the car, hitting the lock button on his door before he closes it. 

 

“That…is true,” Ray agrees, “You might only have one arm but you absolutely do have a firm grasp on this life thing.”

 

“I mean, it only took being on two antidepressants at once and having to fight off a weirdly insistent robot scientist for me to get as good a handle on life as I can,” Bucky points out, laughing as he and Ray walk into the VA building, heading down the hall to a room where Ray can already hear the group talking as everyone settles in.

 

Ray has a thought as they come up to the still open door. “If there are no chocolate chip cookies left I am going to kill a man,” he says as they cross the threshold, “Or woman, I don’t care, I’m not sexist; everyone is fair game if there’s no cookies left.”

 

“How progressive of you,” Bucky laughs, “I’m sure there will be, especially if Sam knew we were coming since you said he threatened to kill you and all.”

 

“I did not,” Sam’s voice says from behind them, “I just said that it had been a while since the two of you came two weeks in a row and it would be nice to see you. I also may have said that we’re going to be sharing the joys of our higher ups this week and it might be a good time to share any complaints you may have.”

 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Ray spins and nearly swings his fist out, “You can’t just sneak up on people like that Sam! We are wounded vets! We could kill you!”

 

“First, you wouldn’t kill me because I don’t think you actually could. Second, I was far enough back that even if you had swung that fist,” Sam nods down at the fist Ray has made at his side, “You wouldn’t have hit me in the slightest. Third, why so serious, Ray?”

 

“I hate you,” Ray mumbles as Bucky laughs at him, “I could totally kill you.”

 

“Okay, RTO,” Sam says, nudging his shoulder as he passes the two of them in the doorway, “Sure you could.”

 

Bucky pats Ray on the head as the two of them head over to the snack table, just in time if the three chocolate chip cookies that are all alone on the table are any sign. “I could totally take him,” Ray says as he grabs the three cookies, bypassing the sludge the VA calls coffee for a can of Mountain Dew from the bucket full of drinks and ice packs.

 

“He’s friends with Natasha,” Bucky points out, taking the top cookie off of the stack in Ray’s hand and seeming to ignoring the look that gets him as he continues, “I’m pretty sure she’s taught him a few things so that short dudes like you can’t fucking kill him.”

 

”Okay, first, rude: don’t just take my cookie, asshole. Second, we’re friends with Natasha, why hasn’t she taught us anything? And third, rude again! I’m not short, homes, I’m average height!” Ray says before shoving one of the two cookies left into his mouth as they walk to the chairs that they have unofficially claimed as their own.

 

Bucky finishes chewing the last of the cookie he stole from Ray and says, “Well, I don’t think Natasha really considers us her friends, and at this point I’m just happy that she hasn’t decided to kill us herself because let’s face it bro, there’s no way we’d survive if she decided to. Lastly, you might be average height in the real world, but in the Marines you are short as hell, my man.”

 

“Boy it really is too bad that the IED didn’t also take your smart mouth with it,” Ray says around a mouthful of cookie, causing the people that are standing near enough them to hear what he’s said to stare at the two of them like they’re afraid a fight is going to break out.

 

Bucky snorts, “It’s too bad the only thing that you came back with is a penchant for sucking cock.”

 

Ray feels a laugh building and manages to swallow the cookie down before he starts giggling. “It’s true man, the military definitely won’t pay me disability just because I came back sucking cock,” he says as he finally sits down in the chair, setting the last cookie on his knee as he pops open the Mountain Dew can and takes a swig.

 

Bucky laughs as he drops down onto the seat next to Ray. “I’m just saying, if the military is going to discharge people for being queer they should definitely consider it some type of disability, even though it’s actually not. I mean, queer people that get discharged deserve some type of compensation for having to be told ‘gross eww you like to have sex with your same gender, you have to leave now’,” he says, getting a nod of agreement from Ray. 

 

“Homes, yes, also, Natasha totally considers us her friends. Well, me at least, I don’t know why anyone would consider _you_ a friend,” Ray says, leaning over to knock his shoulder against Bucky’s as he splits the last chocolate chip cookie in half and hands part of it over. “Never say I didn’t give you nothin’,” he says, getting an eye roll and a shoulder bump back from Bucky. 

 

“Whiskey-tango fuck,” Bucky replies before shoving the half of the cookie that Ray handed over into his mouth.

 

Ray is about to say something else but Sam steps up to the podium at the front of the room and gives a wave. “Well, looks like everyone is here today,” he says, smirking in Ray and Bucky’s direction, Ray flips him off with a grin as he continues, “Doesn’t look like there’s a bunch of new people today so we’ll just get started, all I ask is that before you speak you remind everyone of your name and anything else you want to share. Today we’re going to talk about the biggest mistake that you saw out in the field, whether it was something you did or something someone else did, and we’re going to see if we can find any common threads in the stories that you share. Who wants to start?”

 

A woman sitting up at the front in a wheelchair raises her hand. “I can,” she says, “I’m Rebecca and,” Ray feels Bucky tense up at the woman’s name and he nudges the other man without thinking as he continues listening, “The mistake that I witnessed in the field was my own I uh, I had been told that a road had been swept for fucking bomb already but apparently it hadn’t.” Sam nods his head as the woman pauses, seemingly trying to collect her thoughts, “It was weird, I always thought that a bomb going off would be loud, like really loud, but when the one that I hit went off it was like…there was such a silence? It was unsettlingly like all the sound in the entire world had been sucked out and then suddenly I heard everything again, twice as loud as it should have been, and there was someone screaming and I didn’t even realize that it was _me_ until one of the medics in my unit came over and covered my mouth with his hand.”

 

“When we hit the IED it was like the entire world was in a vacuum, and I didn’t even realize that I had been thrown from the fucking Humvee until I was trying to grab my SAW, with my left arm that was just laying there like a dead fish,” Bucky says, his voice barely loud enough for Ray to hear so he’s not sure how Rebecca up front hears him but she does, if the way she’s staring at him is any indicator. “It’s just, one of my men told me that happens because it’s something so loud and immediate that it just kind of, happens so fast that your hearing is shot before you even realize what did it.”

 

Rebecca throws a small smile at Bucky and he smiles back slightly, “That’s what the medic told me when I mentioned it to him, that I hadn’t actually heard the explosion, it’s still fucking weird.” After she’s finished a few more people speak until finally Ray raises his hand when Sam asks if anyone else has a story they’d like to share.

 

“Yeah homes, I actually have a few, do you want to hear about the time we lost the battalion colors or the time that my entire squad almost got fucking blown up thanks to one of our COs? I’ll tell both, okay, the first one is a story about how the fucking COs apparently thought they could just leave a fucking fully loaded supply truck in the middle of the goddamn desert and go back for it the next day. That was a gem, the night started out with my squad getting shot at by fucking trigger happy doctors, meaning that my Humvee and my men had to drive forty fucking klicks without water because _that’s_ what they managed to fucking shoot and _then_ because we weren’t moving fast enough the COs decided that we were going to abandon a supply truck with 400 pounds of C4, MREs, and the battalion colors, and when they went back for it the next day they were actually fucking surprised when it was blown to shit,” Ray takes a deep breath and lets it out, shaking his head as he sees the rest of the group is staring at him. “Sorry about the uh, the cursing,” he adds on, and Sam waves it away. “This next little ditty is all about how sheer incompetence actually saved the lives of my fucking battalion. One of our COs wanted to call in an airstrike, which would have been whatever if the coordinates that he had weren’t _our coordinates_ , thank god he got the call signals fucked up or I would have been fucking dust in the wind just because a man can’t read fucking coordinates,” Ray can feel himself shaking as he finishes up speaking and he can also feel Bucky squeeze his knee, which Ray focuses on to ease his shaking. 

 

“Shit rolls down hill,” one of the men that already spoken says, sounding understanding, “Some of those fucking COs have no reason to be out in a goddamn war zone and need to be sitting behind their cushy desks back stateside.”

 

There’s a general mumbling of agreement before Sam speaks up again. “It seems as if the thread that ties these stories together is a general incompetency from people higher up than us,” He says, and the room mumbles in agreement again. “There’s not much that can be done now, so long after the fact, but I’m sure that you all have buddies that are still in,” Sam pauses, looking at the people nodding, “So I’m going to let you know what the best thing to do in these situations is, and you can pass on the information if you’d like, to the friends that are still dealing with incompetence. The first tip I have is, go to the commander of a battalion other than your own to double check information, in Rebecca’s case it would have been to see if the route she was driving had been swept, but if you can’t do that even asking a fellow squad member might be good enough. Double checking everything is a good way to weed out faulty information from an incompetent CO if it comes down to it.”

 

“If they don’t ding you for insubordination,” one of the men in the same row as Ray and Bucky says, sounding disgusted.

 

“That is true,” Sam says, “But would you rather be considered insubordinate or dead?” There’s a silence and Ray takes the chance to look around the room and spots a majority of the people look like they would actually rather be dead than be considered insubordinate. Which isn’t surprising, but it does hurt his heart a little to see these people still believing so strongly in their government that they can’t even talk about how shitty COs can be when they’re not even in the service anymore. 

 

“When I was in,” Bucky starts, his face looking as surprised as Ray feels at him talking, “I would have rather been dead than to be considered insubordinate. But now that I’m out, I think that’s a very naive way of thinking. They teach you, at least in the Marines, that your higher ups are gods and that they can do no wrong, but I think it’s important to remember that half the time they don’t know much more than the grunts do in the heat of the moment.”

 

There’s some grumbling, and Ray can tell that someone is going to argue so he steps in as well. “It’s true,” he says, sitting up straight in his seat and tossing Bucky a smirk, “When us Recon Marines were first boots on the ground in Mesopotamia, do you know where our COs were getting the news? It wasn’t from General Mattis, is was from the fucking _BBC,_ can you imagine a whole fucking battalion going off of the word of the BBC? That’s what we were doing because in war time news doesn’t travel down the chain of command fast enough, and we needed up to date news on where our allies were. The BBC was the easiest way to find this all out. The fucking COs didn’t know _shit_ unless it came out of a reporter’s mouth.” 

 

“I’m sorry but that’s a very disrespectful thing to say,” Rebecca says from the front of the room, “ _No one_ knew what was gong on, the COs did the best they could with the information that they were given, you can’t blame them for the shit that happened. Like you said, it was a war zone.”

 

“That’s—ya know what? I’m not going to argue with you because I’m not in the mood to disenchant you to the ways of the armed forces but do you honestly think if they had done everything they could with the information they were given that you’d be sitting in a wheelchair in a VA in fucking _Temecula_? Because if you do, that is a kind of trust in the armed forces that I don’t know how anyone can have,” Ray says, shaking his head and sighing, looking around the room and laughing slightly when people very obviously avoid his gaze. 

 

Sam clears his throat up at the podium. “Remember that this is a safe place, everyone is entitled to their opinions whether or not you agree with them,” he sounds more stern than he has in the past, “Different people deal with things differently and everyone need to remember this when they’re talking about personal things in this room.” With that he ends the session, an hour having passed far more quickly than Ray had expected when it began. He and Bucky stand up and are making their way up to the front of the room when someone taps Ray on the shoulder, causing him to stop in his tracks and turn to look at the guy that wanted his attention.

 

“Hey man, I just want to say that like, it’s hard to look back on my time in and not realize that some really fucked up shit happened. I still love this country though, and I loved my time in, so I don’t understand how anyone that has been in can say what you’ve said,” One of the guys that spoke near the beginning says, and Ray vaguely remembers his name being Frank.

 

“I get that, homes, I really do” Ray begins, “And maybe if I hadn’t seen just how badly an incompetent CO can fuck things up I wouldn’t feel the way I do, _but I did_ , so I do.” He shrugs at Frank and then turns back to where Bucky and Sam are chatting closer to the front of the room, stepping up to insert himself into the conversation. 

 

“So,” Sam says, turning to Ray as he joins them, “Bucky just told me that you’re going to talk to ‘Tasha about accepting the job offer?”

 

Ray gives Bucky a look, sticking his tongue out before he answers. “Yeah, I am, when we head over there today. I figure I should be doing _something_ with my life,” he says, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Frank isn’t being weird and hovering, he’s not and so Ray feels his shoulders relax slightly. 

 

“He doesn’t want to be _unemployed_ when his boy gets back in December,” Bucky teases and Ray groans, covering his face because he can feel himself blushing. 

 

“Yooo,” Sam says, “He’s coming back for Christmas?” 

 

“Hanukkah,” Ray corrects, sighing against the palm of his hand as he continues, “And Bucky, shut the hell up.”

 

Sam aww’s loudly and shoves at Ray’s shoulder. “That’s beautiful,” he laughs, “You should definitely not tell Natasha that’s why you want the job because she’ll never let you live it down.”

 

“I don’t think you will either,” Ray complains as he finally uncovers his face and looks between Bucky and Sam.

 

“Definitely not,” Bucky agrees, nodding and laughing slightly.

 

“I hate you both,” Ray says and the two burst into giggles again.

 

———

 

Ray and Bucky walk into Mainside Java and Natasha is behind the counter, as usual, chatting at the register with a pretty blonde woman. “Natasha!” Ray says dramatically as they cross the threshold, throwing his arms in the air and almost smacking Bucky in the face, “How is the love of my life today?”

 

“Still gay, Josh,” Natasha says, as cheerfully as she always does, “In fact, this is my girlfriend, Sharon.”

 

Ray laughs, “You know I am too, very gay, _so gay._ ” He and Bucky finish walking up to the counter and Ray leans against it as he continues, “So you’re the infamous Sharon that Natasha has only mentioned in whispers? I don’t know you, but I already know that you’re too good for Natasha.” He laughs as Natasha sighs and tosses him a look, “Hey homes, that’s what you get for calling me Josh.”

 

Bucky smiles at Sharon and extends his hand, shaking her hand carefully. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says, “You have to excuse my good pal Ray-Ray, he’s obnoxious but he has his uses.”

 

“You only love me for my two arms,” Ray sighs dramatically and presses the back of one hand to his forehead, pretending to swoon, “All I am is a set of hands to you.”

 

“It’s true,” Bucky stage whispers to Sharon and Natasha, “If I ever get another arm he’s out of here.”

 

“I am _wounded_ ,” Ray says as he collapses across the counter and Sharon and Natasha laugh, Natasha patting Ray’s head as he presses his face against the counter.

 

“Big gay Ray wants to take you up on your job offer,” Bucky says as Ray straightens up and offers his hand to Sharon giving her a real smile as he says how nice it is to meet her. 

 

Natasha raises an eyebrow and Sharon says, “I’m gonna go sit in that corner over there, when you guys are done talking shop you’re more than welcome to join me.”

 

“I’ll come with you, Ray when you’re done begging to be hired get me something chocolatey, asshole,” Bucky says, walking with Sharon and leaving Ray and Natasha staring at each other over the counter.

 

“So,” Natasha starts, “Why now?”

 

Ray contemplates lying to her, or at least omitting the truth, but decides to be as honest as he can without getting laughed at…again. “I’m starting to feel like I need to do something more with my days than just sit around with my feet up and a book in my hands, it doesn’t help that my back-pay is beginning to run a little low. Which sucks,” he says with a shrug and a self depreciating smile, “I also want to get more involved in the anti-war scene and I think this might be a good place to do that. Because I think the only people that dislike the military more than me are you and Steve, and that has been made exceedingly more clear the longer I go to the VA meetings.” 

 

“Are you sure you want to start doing that stuff with us? Because you will definitely have to deal with the same bullshit that comes our way, which is a lot because Steve doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, and neither do I,” Natasha warns, leaning her hip against the counter and giving Ray a long look. “You haven’t been here when we’ve actually done anything to promote our agenda,” she says, “Are you absolutely sure that you can do rallies and marches and protests with us and not, at all, feel guilty about it. Because as much as we’re anti-war we _are pro-veteran,_ and we don’t want you to think that you have to join us in all of that just because you work here.”

 

“I agree with you guys on everything that matters,” Ray says, “I’ve spoken with Steve about where he stands on things, and I know you and I have spoken about it.” He pauses as he thinks over what she said, “I also think that this might help me deal with some of my shitty feelings that I’ve had pop up lately, or at least my therapist does and I agree with her, so I would like to do this. Even if you don’t want to hire me I still want to do all of that shit with you guys.”

 

Natasha nods her head and then calls over her shoulder, “Steve! Get the fuck out here!”

 

“I’m putting cookies in the oven give me a fuckin’ second,” is the reply she gets from the kitchen, and Ray does a weird dance as Natasha rolls her eyes.

 

“Fuck yeah, put those cookies in the oven!” Ray yells toward the kitchen, causing Natasha to shake her head as the door from the back opens and out walks Steve.

 

“Hey Ray,” Steve says, his eyes scanning the room and apparently finding what he was looking for because he smiles and says at a louder volume, “Hey Bucky!”

 

“ _Gay_ ,” Ray coughs, getting a glare from Steve and causing Natasha to laugh. 

 

“This asshole,” Natasha starts, gesturing to Ray, “Wants the job we were offering him a few weeks ago.”

 

“I don’t know,” Steve says to Natasha, “Does he deserve it?”

 

“Do I deserve it? Hell yeah I do!” Ray says quickly, before thinking and adding, “Well, kind of. Maybe. Just give me the job so my boyfriend doesn’t think I’m a freeloading whiskey-tango fuck up that can’t get a fucking job.”

 

“Aww, and you said _I’m_ gay,” Steve laughs, “Yeah asshole, you can have the job. It’s yours as soon as you fill out the paperwork.” 

 

“Hell yeah, if you weren’t all the way across the counter I would hug you,” Ray says, throwing a fist in the air and doing a weird hip shimmy dance. “Also,” Ray lowers his voice, “Just fucking ask Bucky on a date, your mutual pining is disgusting and I want to die.”

 

Steve is in the middle of grabbing the papers for Ray from under the counter and he begins to splutter so hard that it actually turns into a cough that he has to work through before he can speak. “I don’t,” he starts, sounding hoarse, “Know what you’re talking about. There’s no pining, on either end, don’t be weird. The first time he saw me he had a fucking anxiety attack and he couldn’t even look me in the eye until like, a month after we met.”

 

Natasha lets out a snort. “You both are very obnoxiously pining,” she says as she grabs the papers from Steve and hands them over to Ray with a pen from the cup next to the register. “Fill these out, and when you’re done I need to make a copy of your ID and your Social Security card, so I hope you have that,” she says to him as he looks down at the top paper. 

 

“Yeah, I carry it with me,” Ray responds as Steve continues to gape at the two of them.

 

“What the hell, I do not,” Steve says, “It’s not, you’re entirely wrong. Both of you.” With that he goes back into the kitchen and Natasha and Ray laugh together for a moment.

 

“Okay,” Natasha says, shaking her head, “What do you want to drink? I know Bucky wants chocolate.”

 

“I want whatever,” Ray says honestly, “As long as it has caffeine and doesn’t actually taste like coffee, that is. So like, I don’t want a smoothie.” He pauses and taps a finger on his chin, “And one of those fucking cookies that Steve probably doesn’t want to give me now that I’ve pointed out how ridiculous he’s being about Bucky.”

 

“I got you,” Natasha says, “And it’s on the house, _this time_ , because you harassed Steve well enough that he disappeared into the back but also because you’re officially one of us.”

 

“You’re still the love of my life,” Ray says as he shoots the double finger guns at her and winks, “Now I’m gonna go see what dirt I can get about you out of your girlfriend.”

 

“Not much,” Natasha says, “She’s CIA but her clearance still isn’t high enough to read my file.” And with that she heads into the kitchen and Ray can hear her tell something to Steve even as he gapes after her. 

 

“ _Unbelievable_ ,” he shakes his head and walks over to the table that Sharon and Bucky are sitting at, slumping down into the chair across from Bucky. “Natasha is terrifying,” He says when Bucky and Sharon’s conversation comes to a natural end.

 

Sharon laughs and smiles at Ray as she says, “She’s really not _that_ bad, you just have to get to her special brand of being.”

 

“She said your clearance isn’t high enough to read her file and you’re _in the CIA_? How is that not terrifying?” Ray asks as Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

 

Sharon shrugs, “She’s done a lot of shit, I know she has, but I’m not going to put her in the position of needing to tell me when she’s legally obligated to _not_ talk about it. I just leave it at, she’s entirely a badass and I’m disgustingly in love with her.”

 

Bucky coos, “That’s adorable, and I never thought I could picture anything about Natasha being adorable. Also, your clearance probably isn’t high enough to read some of my file either, so it’s okay.”

 

“Wait, _what_?” Ray turns to Bucky and stares ,”What the hell does _that_ mean?”

 

“Oh, didn’t you know I was a sniper?” Bucky says easily, grinning as Ray gasps.

 

“I most certainly did _not_ what the hell, homes? Why didn’t you tell me? That’s sick as _fuck_ ,” Ray says, and then, “Oh _man_ , it must have been hard as hell to lose your arm.”

 

Sharon laughs as Bucky shakes his head and joins in the laughter. “Yeah, bro, that was definitely the only reason why losing my arm was hard,” Bucky says as Ray sighs loudly.

 

“You know what I mean!” Ray says, “I hate you so much.”

 

“I know you do,” Bucky grins, “And yeah, being a sniper made it harder to adjust probably, but being a Marine made me very adaptable. Semper Gumby and all that jazz.”

 

“Fuckin’ Semper Gumby,” Ray agrees as Natasha is heading toward their table, three drinks in her hands as she walks carefully. “D’you need help with those?” He asks when he sees how precarious it looks.

 

“If you try and help I will absolutely drop all of them,” Natasha warns, “I’ve got this.” And she does, managing to set the three cups down carefully on the table and then flopping onto the last free chair, which is between Ray and Bucky. “The hot drink with the dog on it is Bucky’s, the other hot drink is Sharon’s and Ray, I know you like cold drinks in the winter because you’re a fucking weirdo, so the cold one is yours,” she says and the three of them grab their cups, Ray taking a sip as soon as he gets his hands on the cup.

 

“You’re the queen of coffee drinks,” he says around the straw before he takes another sip, the flavor of mint coating his tongue. 

 

“I try,” Natasha laughs, shaking her head and sighing as the bell over the door rings and she stands up from the table to go back to the register.

 

Sharon says, “Work hard, dear!” and laughs at the look that Natasha shoots her over her shoulder as Ray and Bucky burst into giggles. 

 

“Oh shit,” Ray says. “Is that Wade? Yo, Wade!” He yells, waving his hand when one of the men at the counter turns around and it is indeed Wade Wilson. The man next to him doesn’t turn around until Wade nudges him with his elbow and jerks his head toward the group at the table. “And Clint! Yo!” Ray says, waving again and grinning at the two, getting a grin from Clint and a grimace from Wade before they turn back to Natasha and hand over some cash. 

 

“Clint forgot his ears today,” Wade warns as the two of them walk up to the table, “So he’s lip reading and talking louder than normal.”

 

“It’s all good homes, how have you guys been?” Ray asks as Wade grabs a chair from the table next to the one they’re gathered around and manages to fit it between the last empty chair and Bucky. 

 

Wade shrugs and says, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

“He’s just finished his last round of chemo,” Clint says, and Bucky and Ray reach out and clap Wade’s shoulders in near unison. “The doctors are saying that everything looks good now,” he continues, smiling at Wade and actually getting a smile in return.

 

“That’s great to hear,” Bucky says, smiling, “Doctors suck until they don’t, ya’ know?”

 

“They really do,” Wade agrees as Natasha walks over to the table with their drinks.

 

“Here’s your tea, Wade, and your quad shot espresso, Clint,” She says as she hands them their drinks, “And congrats on your last chemo dose, asshole, now you can start drinking alcohol again.”

 

“I really shouldn’t yet,” Wade denies as he take a sip of his tea, “But I probably will in a month or so.”

 

“Your boy hasn’t come in this week,” Natasha says, “But I know last week was finals for him so he’s probably hibernating.”

 

Wade rolls his eyes and Clint laughs.   


“He’s not _my boy_ ,” Wade denies. “I just think he’s nice to look at,” he adds, shrugging as Clint nudges him in the side with his elbow. 

 

“Wait, you’re gay?” Ray says, confused, because he didn’t read Wade as gay at all.

 

“Pansexual,” Wade corrects, “I like a person for who they are, not what their body looks like.”

 

“Ohhh,” Ray says, nodding along, “That’s cool, homes, super cool. So this guy, what’s he look like? Who is he?”

 

“No one,” Wade denies, glaring at Ray and causing him to laugh.

 

“Sorry guys,” Clint says as he looks at his phone, “I have an appointment in five and Wade has to go stab some ears.” With that, he and Wade get up from the table and say their goodbyes, heading back to the tattoo shop at the end of the shopping mall row where they both work.

 

Bucky, Ray, and Sharon go back to chatting, the three of them getting along well enough that Natasha looks over and glares as Ray gives her a big smile and wave. Ray is in the middle of telling the two of them about the time that he fell and slammed his face on a turret, breaking his nose, busting both of his lips, and cracking a few teeth, when Steve appears at their table with a plate of cookies and looking sheepish. “I forgot your cookie,” he says to Ray, “So to make up for it I’m letting you be the guinea pig for this new recipe that I’m trying. It’s double chocolate chip but with a twist, I’m using almond flour instead of regular flour.”

 

“Forget Natasha, you’re the true love of my life,” Ray says as Steve sets the plate down in the center of the table, hesitating before he sits carefully on the chair next to Bucky, sitting so close to the edge of the chair that Ray thinks he’s got to be uncomfortable. “Homes, chill, lean back a little and relax,” he says finally, grabbing a cookie and nearly moaning at the taste. 

 

“I uh, I don’t like having my back to the door,” Steve says, sounding as tense as he looks.

 

“Do you want to sit here?” Sharon offers as her back is facing the window but she can clearly see the door.

 

“Windows aren’t that great either,” Steve says with a tight smile, “But thanks.”

 

“I can, uh, I’ll switch if you want,” Bucky says and Ray rolls his eyes hard because he knows that Bucky is just as bad, if not worse.

 

Ray points that out. “Bro, you’re just as bad as he is, you can’t sit with your back to the door.”

 

Bucky shrugs and grabs a cookie as he mumbles, “I figured I should offer.”

 

“I would offer to switch with you,” Ray says, “But I don’t think being four inches to the right and more centered with your back to the door would do much for your anxiety.”

 

Steve laughs slightly, “Yeah, no, that wouldn’t help.”

 

“Have a fucking cookie, bro, do you even eat your own shit? Because you should, it’s amazing,” Ray says through a mouthful of cookie. Natasha comes over from the register to grab a cookie and stands behind Steve’s chair, covering his six, and Ray can see his shoulders drop slightly as he lets himself scoot back to sit on the chair properly.

 

“I don’t actually eat my own baked goods,” Steve answers honestly, “Because they’re mine and I never think they’re as good as everyone else does.”

 

Natasha snorts and nods her head as he speaks. “He’s like that with his art too, never lets anyone see because he thinks he’s horrible even though I’m almost one hundred percent sure that he’s better than just about anyone else in existence right now,” she says, her mouth also full of cookie as she speaks and Steve groans, reaching up to brush crumbs off of the top of his head. 

 

“Oh God,” Ray says, “You’re the worst kind of artist! The modest kind like seriously dude, if your drawing is even half as good as your fucking cookies it’s amazing!”

 

Steve blushes and avoids eye contact with everyone at the table as he speaks, “I’m uh, I’m alright I guess. I’ve been doing some classes at the community college and I’m really learning a lot there when it comes to like, perspective and stuff like that.”

 

“That’s awesome,” Bucky says with a smile, and Steve’s blush turns brighter if Ray has anything to say about it, which he is proud of himself from only kicking out at Bucky’s ankle and widening his eyes at the man, tilting his head at Steve’s way and mouthing ‘ _giant crush_ ’. 

 

Sharon is on her second cookie, and Ray respects the fact that she apparently decided that eating was more important than talking. “I’m just gonna say this once,” she says, after she finishes the last bit of her second cookie, “Steve, you and Bucky are adorable and I want you to bone.”

 

Bucky and Steve both turn so red that Ray is having trouble breathing for how hard he’s laughing. “I—love you Sharon,” Ray says as Steve and Bucky avoid looking at each other, “This is the best day of my life.”

 

“Shut up, you fucking hit your face on a fucking turret who the fuck does that,” Bucky snaps as Ray reaches across the table and pinches his cheek, cooing at him. “Please, die,” he says, slapping Ray’s hand away and standing up from the table, “I have to pee.” Bucky storms off to the bathroom and Sharon, Natasha, and Ray laugh even more, Steve’s cheeks the brightest Ray’s ever seen them.

 

“I uh, I’m just gonna—” Steve gets up from the table as well, heading back into the kitchen as the three left at the table continue laughing.

 

Bucky is walking back to the table as the three of them stop laughing, and the look on Bucky’s face is anything but friendly. “Why,” He snaps out, his voice quiet, “Would you do that?”

 

“Because,” Sharon starts and Natasha shushes her, walking over to stand behind her as Steve’s chair is empty. 

 

“Because it’s getting ridiculous,” Natasha says, leaning down to kiss the top of Sharon’s head, “You and Steve really need to get your shit together because the looks that you keep shooting each other are ridiculous. And I know for a fact that you like him and he likes you so what the hell is the problem?”

 

“Liking someone isn’t the end all be all of building a relationship,” Bucky says, “Mental health is a big part of a healthy relationship and I’m _literally_ the least mentally healthy person that I know, excluding Ray of course.”

 

“Of course,” Ray says with a shrug, “But you always say that you shouldn’t let your mental health hold you back, don’t you? Or is that just some bullshit that you feed to me but won’t actually eat yourself?”

 

“I have honestly never hated you more,” Bucky complains, dropping his head down onto the table and groaning while Ray grabs another cookie.

 

Ray takes a bite of his now third cookie and says, “I’m just saying, homes, you really should practice what you preach.”

 

Natasha bends down and places another kiss on the top of Sharon’s head as the bell over the door rings and the whole table turns to look at who’s entered. “Wanda! Hi there, darling, how are you today?” Natasha asks, smiling and squeezing Sharon’s shoulder as she walks toward the register.

 

“Uh,” Ray says, looking between where Natasha had been and Sharon, “Is that a like, thing? Or am I insane?”

 

“You are insane,” Bucky agrees, “But even I noticed something and I’m horrible at noticing things like that.”

 

“Obviously,” Ray says, throwing Bucky a look before he turns back to Sharon, “You don’t look angry so it’s got to be a thing, spill.”

 

Sharon laughs and looks over her shoulder, smiling at Natasha and winking. Ray nearly has a fit as she starts talking, “Nat and I are, well, we’re trying to woo her.”

 

“Ohhhh,” Bucky says, and he’s not surprised that Sharon and Natasha would be poly, he’s just surprised that he somehow happened to stumble into a group of friends that are as outrageously queer as he is.

 

“It’s a thing that Nat and I do,” Sharon says honestly, “It’s not for everyone but it’s definitely for us.”

 

“Hell yeah,” Ray says, holding his hand out for a high five, “That’s what I’m talking about! Free love and all that jazz! Sometimes you’ve just got to be super fucking queer all the time, and sometimes that’s too much for one person.”

 

Sharon laughs and gives him his high five. “I’ve always been more poly than anything else,” she says, lowering her voice before she continues, “And when Nat and I got together she was super up front about being the same so, we’ve each had our own things outside of our duo but this is the first time we’ve ever uh, tried to get with the same girl. It’s harder than trying to go solo because we have to make sure that we’re being open but also, we really don’t want to scare her off by coming on too strong.”

 

“If I were a woman that was into women I would one hundred percent absolutely think I hit the jackpot if the two of you were trying to pursue me,” Bucky says with a laugh.

 

“Same here,” Ray agrees, grinning. 

 

“That’s sweet,” Sharon says, grinning back and turning to see how Natasha is fairing with Wanda, and Ray would say it’s going pretty well if the way Wanda and smiling and twirling her hair around her finger is any indication. 

 

“Go,” Ray urges her, and Sharon doesn’t need to be told twice apparently because she’s out of her chair and halfway to the counter by the time Bucky’s nodding in agreement. 

 

“And I can’t even get _one_ person,” Bucky says, leading Ray to glare at him. “Okay fine,” He corrects, “I don’t have the _guts_ to get one person.”

 

“That’s better but still shitty,” Ray says as he gets up and moves seats, wanting to be able to watch Sharon and Natasha work their magic on the girl that he thinks is an apprentice at the tattoo shop that Wade and Clint work at. “That’s Clint’s apprentice, right?” He asks Bucky, who he’s now sitting right next to.

 

“Yeah,” Bucky says, “Though I actually think she’s technically _Thor’s_ apprentice. She’s also the front desk person, if I remember correctly. Which I might not.” He shrugs as he grabs the last cookie from the plate in the center of the table.

 

“I want to hear more about this specialist that your doctor made you go to!” Ray says out of the blue as he takes a sip of his coffee, “You mentioned it during the drive to the VA center but haven’t said anything since.”

 

Bucky groans and shoves the rest of the cookie in his mouth, holding up a finger and signaling that he needs a minute to finish chewing. Ray waits patiently and glances back at Natasha and Sharon, who seem to be successful in their wooing if the flush that’s on Wanda’s cheeks is anything to go off of. “Okay, here’s the thing,” Bucky starts, and Ray looks back at him as he speaks, “I went to the specialist because the doctors came to a consensus that they wanted to know how many nerves I actually have in my stump, spoiler alert: it’s not many.” Bucky and Ray laugh for a moment before he continues, “Doctor Stark, the guy that is trying to get me to let him build an arm?” He pauses and gives Ray a look, Ray nods because he does remember something like that being talked about, “Well, turns out that Doctor Stark has _already_ been crafting this weird ass robot arm and the last information that he needed was how much nerve damage had been done when they amputated. I got all of this information from the nerve guy that I went to earlier in the week because Stark hasn’t decided that I need to know yet or, something, I’m not actually sure _why_ I haven’t been told.”

 

“Well, it probably has something to do with the angry yelling you did the last time the dude mentioned something about a robot arm,” Ray point out, “Which I would assume happened again?”

 

“Now why would you think that?” Bucky asks, taking a sip of his still warm coffee. Ray gives him a look that he hopes translates to ‘you fucking know why’ and it must because Bucky sighs, ”Okay so _maybe_ there’s an angry voicemail on Stark’s voicemail, but you can’t prove that it came from me.”

 

“I’m sure they can,” Ray replies.

 

“Okay fine, so they can, whatever. It’s not like I threatened the guy or something I just…encouraged him to stop barking up the wrong tree,” Bucky admits, popping the top of his coffee off and looking into the cup as he swirls it around.

 

“Oh my God,” Ray says, “You threatened to kill him didn’t you?”

 

“No!” Bucky denies, “I didn’t threaten to kill him, Jesus, do you think I’m dumb enough to do that shit on a voicemail? I thought you believed I was smarter than that.”

 

“Well I would hope you are but also, you’re not smart enough to realize that Steve wants that dick so who’s to tell,” Ray says and Bucky glares at him, his cheeks pink. 

 

“Shut up,” Bucky says, “Why don’t we talk about how you’re panicking because Brad is coming back.”

 

“Suddenly I can’t hear,” Ray says, taking the pen that Natasha had handed him with the new hire paperwork and deciding in that moment to start filling everything out, ignoring the look on Bucky’s face as he does so. 

 

The two of them sit in companionable silence as Ray fills out the paperwork that he needs to, Natasha coming over to the table with fresh coffee for Bucky and a pat on the head for Ray before she goes back to the register and starts wiping down the counters, speaking with Sharon quietly enough that Ray has to struggle to hear that she’s even speaking. He’s just finished with the W-4 when the door opens and the bell dings, drawing his attention to the door. “Holy _shit_ ,” Ray says, “Poke, what the hell, homes, aren’t you a site for sore fucking eyes!” He’s out of the chair in a second and has climbed Poke like a tree, hugging him around the neck and getting a laugh and shove in return.

 

“Chill, dawg, I don’t need you this close to me,” Poke says as Ray lets him out of the hug turned headlock. 

 

“You always need me this close to you, you need me all up on you, homes,” he says, receiving a shove and an eye roll in return. 

 

“Please stop attacking our customers, Ray,” Natasha says in a bored tone, “We need them to give us money.”

 

Ray laughs, “This isn’t a customer, this is Poke!” 

 

“That’s not a name, that’s some kind of appliance,” Natasha shoots back, and it’s Bucky’s turn to laugh

 

“I can see why you like this place,” Poke says to Ray dryly as he allows himself to be dragged to the counter by him, “Very friendly.”

 

“Natasha’s a bitch,” Ray says warmly as he grins at the woman at the register, “But she’s the best kind of bitch so it’s okay.”

 

“I hate you,” Natasha says. 

 

“Since he’s not going to do the introductions I will, I’m Antonio Espera, it’s nice to meet you,” Poke says, extending his hand and raising an eyebrow when Natasha shakes his hand.

 

“Natasha, nice to meet you too, unfortunately Ray has told us all about you,” she says with an easy smile, “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but you look like a dark chocolate man.”

 

Poke blinks and Ray says, “It’s her calling dude, she’s like, weirdly good at telling what flavor you want to drink on any given day.”

 

“Dark chocolate sounds good,” Poke agrees, and he hands over exact change when Natasha tells him what it will cost, “I’m normally a black coffee man, though.”

 

“Black coffee tastes like Satan’s asshole,” Natasha says, sounding like she’s suffering, “All you Marines are the same, thinking you have to drink black coffee just to be manly. There’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to something that actually tastes good every so often, Antonio.”

 

“What branch were you then?” Poke asks, sounding curious, “Ray told me this place is run by veterans.”

 

“It is and I am,” Natasha says, moving to make Poke’s drink as she says, “Your clearance isn’t high enough to know what I did.”

 

“How do you know what my clearance is?” Poke asks, squaring his shoulders as he does and drawing a low laugh from Ray, who knows that Poke is trying to poke the bear that is Natasha.

 

Natasha looks over at him as she’s pulling the espresso for his drink and narrows her eyes. “If Mattis’ clearance isn’t high enough, you really think yours is? That’s _adorable_.” She says it easily but with a glint in her eyes.

 

“Alright,” Poke says, raising his hands in surrender, “I’m looking forward to trying this coffee drink then, spook.”

 

Natasha smiles and Ray pulls Poke back to the table that he and Bucky are sitting at. “Bucky, this is Poke, Poke this is my good pal Bucky,” he introduces the two as he drops back onto the chair he had been sitting on before Poke walked in.

 

“Hi,” Bucky greets, waving his hand before he snaps his coffee lid back on. “Nice to actually meet you,” he continues as he allows Poke a few moments of staring at the space his left arm should be. “I can promise you,” he says, quirking an eyebrow, “That no matter how long you stare it’s not going to grow back.”

 

“Shit man, I’m sorry,” Poke says, shaking his head, “It’s just not something I’ve ever seen before, ya know?”

 

“I know,” Bucky says, placating. “You don’t need to apologize just like, treat me like a chick with huge tits, acknowledge it once by staring but after that, eyes up here,” he says, waving a hand at his own face, “Everyone gets one good stare in before I actually get annoyed by it.”

 

Poke laughs, “That’s a good rule to have.”

 

“It makes life easier,” Bucky says with a shrug, “People like to pretend that they don’t notice it which is like, way worse ya’ know? I’d rather have someone acknowledge it than ignore it because it _is_ a part of me, or well, _not_ a part of me.”

 

“How’d it happen?” Poke asks as Ray goes back to filling out his paperwork, only needing to sign a few more things and then he’ll be done.

 

Bucky wrinkles his nose, “IED in Afghanistan, blew me nearly sky high and I was still trying to go for my SAW even though I was six feet away from the vehicle and didn’t have any mobility in my dominant shooting hand.”

 

“War, man,” Poke says, shaking his head, “It’s a nasty fucking business.”

 

“Damn straight,” Ray agrees as he signs the last of the papers with a flourish, “Your boy is now officially employed!”

 

“Congratulations,” Bucky and Poke say in unison, Bucky rolling his eyes and Poke clapping Ray’s shoulder. 

 

Ray stands up and re-stacks the papers, grabbing the pen and taking them and his wallet up to the counter where Natasha is finishing up Poke’s drink. “Here are these,” He says, dropping the papers on the counter and dropping the pen back into the cup next to the register. “And here’s my ID and Social Security card,” he continues, sliding the two of them out of his wallet and slapping them down on top of the papers.

 

“Well that only took you three hours to fill out,” Natasha says, shaking her head and laughing.

 

Ray says, “Heeyyy, no, I just didn’t start filling them out until like a half hour ago.” And then, because he’s watching Natasha put the lid on Poke’s drink offers, “I’ll take that over,” just as the bell over the front door rings again as another customer enters.

 

“Please,” Natasha says with a rare genuine smile, “And try not to attack any more of our customers.”

 

“I only attack the ones I know,” he says with a wink as he grabs the drink from Natasha and heads back to the table. 

 

“Still, don’t do that!” Natasha says at his back before her tone changes as she says, “Welcome to Mainside Java, what can I get started for you today?”

 

Ray is laughing as he sets Poke’s drink down in front of him and slides back down onto his chair. “Oh,” he says, realizing that he hasn’t told Poke, “Brad’s coming back down here in like mid December.”

 

“He emailed me to let me know,” Poke says, “Not that you did.”

 

“Hey man, I only found out last night,” Ray says, “He said he wanted to tell me when we were actually talking.”

 

“Gay,” Poke says, nudging Ray’s shoulder as Ray rolls his eyes.

 

“Very,” Ray agrees as Poke takes the first sip of his drink.

 

“Okay,” Poke starts before pausing and taking another sip of the hot drink in his hands, “I can see why you like hanging out here. This coffee tastes like hot chocolate and I think I need three more.”

 

“So,” Bucky asks, “What are you doing down here? Ray told me that you live in Los Angeles?”

 

“Man, I had an appointment with a shrink over at Pendleton. My wife says I’ve been having nightmares and shit but I don’t actually remember them. So she set up this appointment and didn’t tell me about it until yesterday,” Poke replies, shaking his head, “So that I didn’t have time to cancel it without a fee.”

 

“Nightmares are the worst,” Ray says, “It’s probably better if you don’t remember them. But how does Johanna know that you’re having them if you don’t remember them?”

 

“Well, they probably sleep in the same bed,” Bucky points out, “If you’re in bed with someone you can usually tell if they’re having nightmares.” Ray feels ridiculous that he didn’t think of that, and he has the fleeting thought that it means Brad is going to know about his nightmares when he comes down to visit, which he’s not exactly thrilled about.

 

“That’s what it is,” Poke agrees, “She says that I move around like I’m fucking shooting in my sleep, and every so often apparently I talk in my sleep? I don’t know what I say but it’s concerning her enough that she wanted me to talk to a shrink. Fucking ridiculous if you ask me, I don’t need fucking _help_.”

 

“Everyone needs a little help, homes,” Ray says, cutting Bucky’s response off before he can even start, “Have I not told you that I’m seeing a therapist?”

 

Poke gazes at Ray, looking confused, as he replies, “No, I didn’t know that you had a therapist.”

 

“Bro,” Ray says, trying not to sound as tense as he feels, “I had a therapist _before_ we went to fucking Iraq, and I’m definitely getting more mileage out of her now that we’re back. There’s no shame in needing to talk shit out with an uninvolved third party.”

 

“How could you not tell me though? I thought we were bros?” Poke asks.

 

“We are bros, and I just…didn’t realize that I hadn’t told you. I don’t keep it a secret but I guess it just…didn’t come up in any of our conversations? We don’t exactly talk about our feelings, homes,” Ray answers with a shrug, taking the last sip of his drink before he adds, “I have nightmares too, but I do actually remember them, and at one point my anxiety was so bad that I wasn’t leaving the condo, homes, it’s just one of those things that you have to face head first and dive right in, ya’ know?”

 

“I’m just, still kind of processing that you were so bad at one point that you didn’t leave the condo,” Poke replies honestly, “When was that?”

 

“Right after Brad went to England,” Ray answers, shrugging one shoulder, “I had spent so long not being alone that I didn’t realize that being alone was going to trigger me into a downslide until I was mid-wallow. That’s part of the reason I forced myself to go to the first VA meeting that I went to, where I met my new bff Bucky Barnes and everything was gravy from then on.”

 

Bucky laughs, “I go to a therapist too,” he says, looking at Poke, “And it’s not just because I’m missing an arm.”

 

“Y’all are making me feel bad for shitting on shrinks,” Poke says before he takes another sip of his drink.

 

“Good,” Ray says, shoving his shoulder, “You should feel like shit because they’re very helpful if you find the right one. If you don’t it’s kind of like talking to that shitty uncle that just wants to share war stories and doesn’t care that you actively wanted to die at one point in your life.”

 

Poke looks at Ray, narrowing his eyes. “The Ripped Fuel?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and exhaling in surprise when Ray nods.

 

“It’s not my proudest moment,” Ray answers honestly, “Between being fucked up on Ripped Fuel and then feeling like shit when I _didn’t_ have the Ripped Fuel, Iraq was a really fucked up time for me mentally.”

 

“I told you that you white boys were crazy for popping Ripped Fuel like candy but no one wanted to listen to me,” Poke teases, trying to lighten the moment.

 

“You were right, oh mighty Poke,” Ray says easily, “How ever shall I repay you?” He wiggles his eyebrows which makes both Poke and Bucky burst into laughter. 

 

“Man, just listen to me complain about my therapist when we talk,” Poke says, standing up and shaking his cup at Ray. “I have to go, but I’m definitely going to be back to make you serve me coffee, wench,” he says and Ray rolls his eyes and stands up as well, pulling Poke into a hug even as the other man tries to pull away. 

 

“I am huggy, and you’re not escaping it,” Ray says as he finally lets Poke go, “Now be gone, devil dog, clear out of my shop!”

 

“It’s my shop!” Natasha calls from behind the counter where she’s making a drink for the customer standing at the counter, his glasses perched on his nose.

 

“Actually it’s mine!” Steve says as he walks out of the back kitchen with a tray of fresh baked good, “Now who are we fighting over ownership of the shop?”

 

“Ray,” Natasha says, nodding toward where Ray and Poke are standing and laughing, “Called it his shop.”

 

“Well I mean, he is working here now, so I guess he could claim at least a little bit of the shop,” Steve says as he places cookies in the display case.

 

Poke is still laughing as he exits the shop, and Ray lets out a whoop of celebration. “Hell yeah it’s partly my shop, homes!” He says with a weird wiggle before he sits back down in the chair he just vacated. 

 

“I said a little, not partly,” Steve says with a laugh as he move on to placing muffins in the display case, “There’s a big difference.”

 

“There’s not that much of a difference,” Sharon says from where she’s leaning against the counter. 

 

“Oh hey, you’re still here,” Ray says, grinning and laughing when Sharon flips him off, “How did the wooing go? I notice your lady is gone.”

 

“Not,” Natasha starts, “That it’s any of your business but she had to head back to the shop to get some apprentice hours in before one of Clint’s regulars came in for an appointment.”

 

“She’s also not our lady,” Sharon says, shaking her head, “No matter how hard we try.”

 

“And oh how we try,” Natasha says, faking a swoon. 

 

Ray laughs and says, “I’m sure you two will woo her yet, she’d be silly not to let it happen at least once.” He stops laughing and makes a face, sticking his tongue out and shaking his head quickly.

 

“You’re thinking about lesbian sex now, aren’t you?” Bucky asks as Ray squirms.

 

“I didn’t mean to!” Ray insists, “It just happened and now I want to die.”

 

“Welcome to my world and literally any time anyone mentions something about sex,” Bucky says, shoving at Ray’s shoulder, “It’s the worst.”

 

Natasha says across the room, “Oh! You’re asexual! That explains a fuck ton.”

 

“Uh, there’s a word for it?” Bucky says, sounding genuinely confused, “I thought I was just uh, weird.”

 

Natasha smiles at him. “I mean, you are weird,” she says, “But not because of that. Asexual means you don’t feel like, any sexual attraction or at least none that you want to act on. From what I’ve heard at least, I don’t know from first hand experience.”

 

Bucky hums in agreement. “I am weird,” he says easily, “It’s cool that there’s actually a word for it though, I’m gonna have to research it some on my own.”

 

“Don’t be surprised if you find a bunch of fucked up shit about plants,” Steve warns, “I’ve uh, done my own research on it and that’s really the first shit that comes up.”

 

“…Do I want to know?” Ray asks, before shaking his head. “Ya’ know what, I already know that I don’t,” he continues, giving Bucky a shove back. “But Steve, maybe you can educate poor young Bucky here on the ways of asexuality, since you’ve done some reading yourself,” he says this with a smirk and Sharon and Natasha both give him sneaky thumbs up where Steve can’t see, but Bucky can and he glares hard between the three of them.

 

Steve is oblivious to what Ray is trying to do it seems, or he realizes it and just doesn’t care because he says, “Yeah sure, I’d love to fill you in on what I know,” and smiles at Bucky over the top of the display case as he places the last muffin in. 

 

“ _Gaayyy_ ,” Ray says under his breath as Bucky smacks his arm.

 

“That would be cool I mean, probably easier to learn from someone I can ask questions at as opposed to the internet that’s hit or miss at best most times,” Bucky says and Ray can’t hold in the laugh that had been trying to escape since Steve jumped into the conversation. “Are you asexual?” Bucky asks over Ray’s laughter.

 

“I’m a…type of asexual, I think,” Steve answers honestly, “For me it’s more like…I have to really get to know someone before I can even think about having sex with them. And even then it’s kind of..like I don’t really ever _need_ sex? I just, I’ll do it if the person I’m with wants to but I don’t overly enjoy it like everyone seems to think I should. I mean I do, but not like, I wouldn’t rave about it like so many other people seem to.”

 

Bucky’s nodding along as Steve speaks. “Yeah, that’s actually,” He pauses, apparently thinking if the way he’s pursing his lips is any indicator, “That’s probably closer to what I am. It’s just, I wish I could be like the rest of my friends were and sleep around and _like it_ but I tried that before I joined up and it just made me feel like I needed twenty showers back to back and a chlorine mouth wash just to be safe.”

 

“I am one hundred percent _not_ asexual,” Natasha says in the silence, “I like eating pussy too much.”

 

“No!” Steve, Ray, and Bucky yell nearly in unison, Ray covering his eyes and Bucky dropping his head on the table.

 

“ _Why_ ,” Steve whines, folding his arms on the top of the display case and dropping his forehead on his arms, “Why would you say that?”

 

“Like I don’t have to listen to Ray talking about Brad’s dick? All’s fair in love and sex talk, if I have to hear about dick y’all have to hear about pussy,” she says, laughing as Sharon leans across the counter and pulls her into a kiss, causing the men to groan again. 

 

“I hate everyone in this room,” Bucky groans and the rest of the group laughs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve makes Bucky more agreeable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MP: Military Police

The next morning dawns with Bucky piled under his blankets, his head pounding as he decides that for the rest of the day he’s not moving. He’s just sent that thought out into the universe, that he’s not moving for anything more than peeing and rehydrating, when his phone vibrates. 

 

“What?” He answers the phone, sounding as tired as he feels.

 

“Mister Barnes? This is Pepper, with Doctor Stark’s office? He was wondering if you could come in today because he has a few things he’d like to discuss with you,” a chipper female voice says, and Bucky rolls his eyes.

 

“Is this about the fucking arm I keep telling him to fuck off about?” He asks, rolling over onto his back and sighing.

 

“I was not told what he wanted to speak to you about,” Pepper says, her voice sounding less pleasant than it had initially, “Just that he would like you to come in today around noon if that’s at all possible.”

 

“And what if I say it’s not?” Bucky asks.

 

“Well I’m sure we can set up an appointment at a time more suited for you,” Pepper offers, her voice level and even Bucky can hear the thread of warning in it.

 

“I’ll be in at noon,” he says, gritting his teeth as he hangs up the phone, cutting off Pepper’s happy ‘we’ll see you soon’ that he hopes she chokes on. He sits up and the covers pool at his waist, his hair finally long enough that it looks as ridiculous as he feels when he glances in the mirror above the dresser. _I can’t do this_ , he thinks, gazing at his reflection with a harder eye, his eye tripping over the empty hoodie sleeve he’s got hanging at his side.

 

_i hate my dr_ , Bucky sends the text to two people, Ray and Steve.

 

He’s not expecting Ray to text him back quickly, so he’s not surprised when Steve’s text is the first to reach him. _what’s up???_ Steve’s text reads and Bucky lets out a sigh.

 

_dr’s office called me to tell me i had to come in today_ , he shoots back before shoving his phone into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and pushing himself out of bed, the clock on his bedside table reading 11 AM. 

 

_did u have an appt already???,_ He reads Steve’s reply before he grabs his toothbrush, brushing his teeth and not for the first time missing his left hand.

 

Bucky finishes brushing his teeth and rinses the toothbrush off, dropping it into the cup next to the faucet as he spits in the sink. _no which is why it sucks i have a fucking migraine and i don’t want to drive all the way to fucking pendleton for a gd appointment that i didn’t even make_ , he sends in response as he looks down at the pajamas he has on and decides in that moment _fuck it_ , he didn’t have an appointment set anyway so the doctor can take what he gets. 

 

_when is the appt?,_ Steve sends back and Bucky sighs as he drops down onto the couch, deciding that he has at least twenty minutes before he has to actually seriously leave.

 

_it’s @ noon and i already want to die_ , Bucky replies, and he’s surprised when he doesn’t get a text back from Steve immediately. He isn’t worrying about it though, he tells the voice in his head that sounds like Ray, he’s sure that Steve just got busy baking some new delicious thing that even just thinking about makes Bucky’s mouth water. 

 

Bucky is in his room, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes that don’t have laces, the best gift his sister ever gave him, even if they _were_ to make fun of him for not being able to tie his shoes anymore, when there’s a knock on the door. He can actually tie his shoes one-handed now, it was something he was taught in physical therapy, but on days like this, when his head is pounding and it’s everything he can do to stay standing, it’s nice to not have to try. Bucky walks slowly into his living room and says “Who is it?” at the door, confused that someone would be coming over considering the only person that knows where he lives within driving distance regularly sleeps in until noon.

 

“It’s me, Bucky,” Steve’s voice says through the door and Bucky does everything but trip over himself to open it. 

 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, opening the door enough to let Steve squeeze through and into the living room. “Wait,” he pauses, closing the door behind Steve, “How do you even know where I live?” 

 

Steve looks shifty and avoids his eye as he answers. “I got it from Ray,” he answers and Bucky laughs, shaking his head.

 

“He must have been thrilled to give it to you at o’dark thirty,” Bucky teases, drawing a laugh from Steve.

 

“That was his exact wording when he finally answered the phone,” Steve says, “And I got the address after some smooth talking.”

 

“He just gave it up, didn’t he?”

 

“He did, he sang like the fat lady,” Steve says, “I don’t know how that man was ever a Marine.”

 

“Lots of Ripped Fuel,” Bucky says, grimacing as his head twinges. 

 

“If you’re ready we should probably go,” Steve says, with a sweeping motion toward the door.

 

Bucky blinks, “Right, yeah.” He agrees, back tracking to the kitchen to grab his keys. “Honestly, thank you,” Bucky says with a smile as he and Steve walk out of the door, Bucky locking the door behind them. 

 

“It’s no problem,” Steve says, smiling back, “I didn’t have anything else going on today. Plus, you shouldn’t be forced to drive to Camp P with a migraine, that’s not safe for anyone.”

 

“That is probably very true,” Bucky agrees as Steve opens his car door for him, causing him to fight back a blush as he says, “Thanks.”

 

“Stop thanking me,” Steve says lightly as he closes the door, Bucky closing his eyes against the bright sun as he leans his head back against the headrest. 

 

“How are you doing?” Steve asks as he drops into the driver’s seat, Bucky buckling his seatbelt without bothering to open his eyes.

 

“I still want to die,” Bucky answers honestly, tilting his head in Steve’s direction even though his eyes are still closed, “But I always do so that’s nothing new.” Steve starts the car and Bucky is waiting for the radio to start blasting like it does when he gets in Ray’s car, but it doesn’t, and that’s enough to make him crack an eye open and say in a confused tone, “Radio?”

 

“Oh,” Steve says, “Did you want the radio on? I assumed because you have a headache that you wouldn’t so I turned it off before I got out when I parked.”

 

Bucky wants to yell, why he’s not sure, but he holds it in and just says, “Yeah, I don’t want it on I just…when I get into Ray’s car it’s always loud so I was kind of bracing for it.” He closes his eyes again as Steve pulls out of the spot he parked in, the two of them in a companionable silence until Bucky’s phone starts ringing in his pocket.

 

“So, did you like my present,” Ray’s voice is chipper through the phone as Bucky holds the phone to his ear, after having scrambled to pull it out of his pocket.

 

“You’re sneaky,” Bucky answers, “Also, I have a headache from hell so I appreciate not having to drive to my fucking appointment.”

 

“You’re in _looovveeee_ ,” Ray teases and Bucky sighs, shaking his head as he continues, “But I’m sorry you have a headache. Also, what the hell is up with this appointment? I thought your next one wasn’t for a few weeks?”

 

Bucky groans into the phone and shifts in the car seat, trying to get his head more comfortably against the headrest. “It wasn’t supposed to be, but the asshole had his secretary call me to ask me to come in today. Of course, that’s really saying that he isn’t asking at all, and would probably manage to hunt me down if I didn’t show up,” he says, “I will be pleased if I don’t actually kill him today.”

 

Bucky hears Steve let out a snort and he glances at the car clock, seeing that they still have twenty minutes to get to Camp P before he’ll be late, not that he really cares, as Ray speaks, “Just tell him that, maybe he’ll decide that giving the dude that wants to murder him a sick robot arm is a bad idea.”

 

“If I thought that would stop him I would try, but I’m pretty sure he’d still do it just to see if I _could_ murder him with his own sick robot arm,” Bucky sighs, his head pounding and left arm tingling in a way that he knows he shouldn’t be able to feel.

 

“At least Steve is there to protect you,” Ray says, laughing, “Text me when you’re done not killing your doctor, gay wad.”

 

“So original,” Bucky laughs, “I will, bro.” He hangs up the phone and instead of trying to shove it into his pocket with his eyes closed he drops it in his lap and sighs. 

 

“Ray?” Steve asks and Bucky can hear the humor in his voice.

 

“That whiskey-tango fuckwad thinks I’m going to murder my doctor,” Bucky says, answering the question that he figures is on the tip of Steve’s tongue, “Wanted to read me my last will and testament or whatever. Get my final thoughts? I’m not really sure what goes through Ray’s mind half the time.”

 

“I’m pretty positive that your last will and testament is only if you’re the one that’s going to die,” Steve says, “And it’s not something _you_ say, it’s something that’s said over your dying corpse. Final thoughts sounds about right though.” Bucky laughs and then groans, covering his forehead with his hand. “Did you take anything for that?” Steve asks, tapping Bucky’s knee before he turns left and into the line to get on base. 

 

“Doctor Satan, oh excuse me Doctor _Stark,_ likes me to go in unmedicated when at all possible. I didn’t want to have to deal with this again at a later date so I’m just gonna suck it up and move on, I’ll take something when I get home,” Bucky mumbles, cracking his eyes open enough to grab his wallet from his pocket and hand it over to Steve, not having the energy to dig his military ID out of it, “It’s behind my driver’s license.”

 

The MP that knocks on Bucky’s window is less than amused when Bucky rolls down the window and glares at him. “You have ID?” She asks, sounding bored.

 

“The driver has my ID, like he’s supposed to, MP,” Bucky answers, “This isn’t my first rodeo, show clown.”

 

The MP stares at him for a moment and then rolls her eyes, walking around the front of the car to stand next to the MP that had taken both Bucky and Steve’s IDs to check over. “Show clown?” Steve asks in a laugh, “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

 

Bucky turns to look at Steve and almost forgets his headache as he teases, “Did you…did you just say ‘heck’? What self respecting vet says _heck_?”

 

“One that could probably kill you with his pinky,” Steve answers with a smirk as the male MP steps back up to his window, handing the IDs back through the window with a less than pleasant smile and a wave as the female MP opens the gate to let them through.

 

“I’ll let that slide,” Bucky says as Steve hands over his ID and his wallet, “Because you’re the driver and I also feel like I’m dying. But I don’t want you to think that idle threat would normally fly.”

 

“So Natasha could kill you with her pinky but I can’t?” Steve asks, glancing over as he drives through the gate and onto the base.

 

Bucky finishes shoving his ID back into his wallet and drops that on his lap, on top of his phone. “Absolutely,” he answers, forcing himself to keep his eyes open as they pull up to the parking lot of the on-base hospital with five minutes to spare. “Natasha is terrifying, bro,” he says as he unbuckles his seatbelt and Steve turns the car off. 

 

“I agree,” Steve says, pausing as the two of them get out of the car, closing the doors nearly in unison. “That doesn’t mean I can’t kill you as well, just that you wouldn’t be _expecting_ me to,” He continues, walking around the car and grabbing at Bucky’s arm when he sways slightly. “You good?” Steve asks, covering his worry with a forced laugh.

 

“I’m fine,” Bucky says even as he leans heavily against Steve, “Just, the room is spinning is all.”

 

“We’re outside,” Steve replies.

 

“Oh shit, it’s worse than I thought,” Bucky laughs slightly even as he pulls away enough that he can take a few steps, testing his balance before he says, “Let’s fucking go, homes.”

 

“Turning into Ray now?” Steve teases, widening his steps so that he’s even with Bucky. 

 

“I’m not going to swoon, Steve,” Bucky says gently, nudging him with his arm, before responding to his initial question, “I’ve maybe been hanging around him too much.”

 

“There’s no such thing as hanging out with a friend too much,” Steve says, smiling over at Bucky who can’t stop himself from smiling back.

 

“Fair point,” he replies, looking away and nudging Steve again with his elbow. 

 

“Ray is a little much though,” Steve says, and it gets a laugh from Bucky.

 

“He is,” He agrees, shrugging. “But he’s also a surprisingly good guy, once you get passed being called _homes_ ever other sentence and all of his cussing,” Bucky continues, pausing for emphasis before he says, “what the _fuck_ , right?”

 

Steve laughs as the two of them walk through the hospital doors, Bucky hanging a right and avoiding the elevator in favor of the stairs, something that’s such a routine that he doesn’t think it might be weird until Steve points it out. “So,” Steve says once they’ve reached the third floor landing, “Not a fan of elevators?”

 

“Oh, no,” Bucky says, shrugging as he opens the door from the stairwell out into the hospital hallway. “Me and tight spaces man, it’s part of the reason that I was in a Huumvee when this happened instead of a tank,” He points at his left shoulder as he speaks, “I avoid elevators when at all possible.”

 

Steve nods his head and lets Bucky hold the door for him as he steps out into the hallway. “I hate water,” he says, getting a look from Bucky. “Not,” Steve pauses and laughs, “Not like drinking water or showers but large bodies of water, definitely not my thing.”

 

“What kind of specialist where you if you won’t go in the water?” Bucky asks as he nods down the hallway they need to go down, his shoulders tensing as soon as he sees Pepper sitting at the desk with that weirdly vacant smile that she always seems to save just for him. He’s seen her smile at other patients and it’s not nearly as terrifying as when she smiles at him.

 

“Didn’t say I _won’t_ go in the water, just that I _hate it_ ,” Steve corrects.

 

“What branch were you even in?” Bucky asks as they stop in front of Pepper. 

 

“Mister Barnes, good, you made it,” Pepper says as she shuffles some papers on her desk, “And you’ve brought a friend, that’s new.”

 

“Can you just tell Doctor Zhivago that I’m here,” Bucky says with a sigh.

 

“Are you ever going to run out of names to call Doctor _Stark_?” Pepper asks even as she hits a button on the desk and buzzes the door next to the desk open. “You can come right through, to the smaller waiting room. Your friend can wait out here if you’d be more comfortable?” She says, directing the tail end of the question to Steve, who’s hovering somewhere behind Bucky’s shoulder.

 

“I’m fine going back, if it’s alright with Buck,” Steve says, and Bucky smiles at him over his shoulder and nods. It’s Steve’s turn to hold the door, if the way the blond man jumps at the chance is any indication, and Bucky lets him, leading him back to the smaller waiting room.

 

“They do this every time,” Bucky says as he drops into a seat, the two of them the only ones in the small area, “It’s like they don’t think I can play nicely with others.”

 

Steve laughs, “Well, you did have a bit of a murder walk when you were approaching the desk to talk to the red head.”

 

“Her name is Pepper and she’s the devil,” Bucky says quickly. “Well, she’s the devil’s _assistant_ , which isn’t much better,” he corrects, “And what the hell is a _murder walk_?”

 

“It’s like…I don’t know how to explain it, but all you Marines have it when you try. You just give off murder vibes when you’re annoyed or angry,” Steve answers, “I haven’t seen Ray do it yet, but I would imagine that when he does it’ll be even scarier than you just because he’s very friendly any other time.”

 

Bucky laughs and shakes his head. “I guess I kind of understand what you mean,” he says, thinking back to other times that he’s had people clear a path for him without him actually trying, and every time it’s happened was when he was annoyed or angry or in pain, that’s the big one. “I wouldn’t think that you could believe that I have a murder walk considering you saw me have an actual I’m dying panic attack the first time we met,” he says easily, not embarrassed by the fact any more. 

 

“You’re a very intimidating man, Bucky,” Steve says, smiling at him, “It doesn’t help that you’re getting a little scruffy in the face.”

 

Bucky reaches his hand up and rubs it against his cheeks. “That is because I didn’t think I’d be seeing anyone but my doctor today,” He says sheepishly, “It’s the same reason I’m not wearing real pants.” Bucky points down at his flannel covered legs and Steve lets out a laugh.

 

“They cover everything important so I’m considering them real pants,” Steve says, “And I mean, I’m wearing gym shorts so I can’t judge you.”

 

“Which doesn’t make sense!” Bucky says, “It’s like sixty degrees out, how are you wearing shorts?”

 

“It’s not that cold,” Steve says, “And I like wearing shorts when I’m not working, it’s freeing.”

 

“It’s _weird_ ,” Bucky says, “Now, are you going to tell me what branch you were since your answer was rudely cut off by Pepper?”

 

Steve is about to answer when Doctor Stark says loudly, “James Barnes! And you’ve brought a friend!”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes and tries not to flinch as he stands up. “Doc, what was so important that you needed to see me today?”

 

“Well see young Barnes—” And there it is, the thing that annoys Bucky the most about Stark, the fact that he acts all old and wise when really he’s just an asshole too smart for his own good, “—I wanted to tell you more about this arm that I’m building you! But first you need to introduce me to this tall, blond friend you’ve got here.” Steve’s back had been to Doctor Stark so when he turns to face him the doctor lets out a loud laugh, shocking Bucky so much that he can’t hide the look of confusion.

 

“Captain Steve Rogers as I live and breathe,” Stark says, and Bucky is confused, looking between Steve and Stark with an eyebrow raised slightly.

 

“Tony? I didn’t know he was talking about _you_ when he was saying Doctor Stark,” Steve says, shocking Bucky even more by closing the distance between him and the doctor by sweeping him into a hug. “How the hell have you been?” Steve asks the doctor, and Bucky is still floundering silently behind him because _what the hell is going on_?

 

“I’ve been good, man, really getting into this doctor thing,” Stark answers, “How have you been?”

 

“I’ve been good I actually—”

 

“Hi, yes, insanely confused patient here. What the _fuck_ is happening?” Bucky interrupts, having gotten close enough to the two of them while they were catching up to wave his hand between the two of them.

 

“Tony was the medic assigned to my squad,” Steve answers, smiling.

 

Stark, because Bucky refuses to think of him as _Tony_ , chips in, “I was also the squad mechanic, and RTO, and pretty much anything to do with electronics and keeping the idiots grunts alive.”

 

“If he’s the one that’s building your arm it will be amazing,” Steve says, looking at Bucky and shrinking back slightly when Bucky purses his lips together.

 

“Why don’t we head into the lab and I can show you what I have,” Stark says, and Bucky wants to scream even as he nods his head once, allowing himself to be led back to Stark’s personal lab, Steve keeping time with Stark as he fills him in on owning his own coffee shop. 

 

Bucky would think his excitement cute if it was directed at anyone else, but since it’s Stark that he’s talking to Bucky wants to throw his phone at his head, instead he uses it to text Ray, _fun fact apparently the dr and steve KNOW EACH OTHER so basically i want to die more than i did._ He shoves his phone back into his pocket as he steps into the lab, Steve holding the door open for him as he does, and Bucky swears he feels Steve’s hand on the small of his back but it’s gone before he can do anything more than feel the small press of heat. 

 

“So, we have to get the doctor questions out of the way before I can tell you all about this arm, James, do you want Steve to step out while you answer or…” Stark asks, and Bucky shrugs.

 

“I don’t care, Steve, you can stay if you want,” he answers as he hops up on the paper covered table that he’s learned to loathe, especially when it means he’s about to be talked at about the arm that Stark is so excited about. 

 

Steve shrugs and Stark rolls a chair toward him, which Steve then rolls some more so that he’s sitting near Bucky’s knee, nudging him with his shoulder as he sits. “Question one,” Stark begins, taking out a piece of paper and a pen from one of his desk drawers, “Are you experiencing phantom limb pain? Residual pain?”

 

“Some,” Bucky answers honestly, because as much as he doesn’t like Stark, he’s not going to lie to the man that’s treating him medically, “It’s not all the time, and the phantom pain is mostly when I’m tired or something like that. Not up to full mental capacity I guess, that’s the best way to put it. The residual pain is more common, but even that’s getting better than it was.”

 

Stark writes something down, “And your pain killers? How often are you taking them?”

 

“I only take the hard shit when I’m feeling the phantom pain, but I take the 800s probably, once a day? Once every other day? And usually before I go to bed, because the residual limb pain can be bad when I’m trying to fall asleep, but the hard shit makes it hard to sleep,” Bucky says, sighing.

 

“And are you getting therapy to help with the phantom limb pain?”

 

“It’s not enough to bother me,” Bucky says, “But I have mentioned it to my therapist and she’s offered to help me out if I decide that I need it for that.”

 

“And you’ve been going to physical therapy still?” Stark asks, writing some more.

 

“I have, once a week whether I want to or not,” Bucky rolls his eyes, “And because I know the next question, yes, I have noticed an improvement in my shoulder movement since the last time we talked.”

 

“That’s good,” Stark says, “And you’re still independent?”

 

“Live alone,” Bucky answers, “And I do drive myself around, only today I didn’t need to because Steve took pity on a one armed man with a migraine.”

 

“Migraine?” Stark asks, “Do those happen often?”

 

“Not as often as they did when I first got back,” Bucky answers, “I know you all want me to keep an eye on them because of TBI but I’m sure that it’s not why I get migraines.” Stark gives him a look and Bucky sighs and corrects himself. “Alright, it probably is,,” he says, “ _But_ they have been getting better, and there’s more time between them, which is what you and the other team of doctors said _should_ happen.”

 

“You’ll let me know if they don’t continue to improve?” Stark asks as he writes more down, and Bucky gave up trying to read what he writes after his second appointment with the man because doctor handwriting is bad but Stark’s handwriting is worse.

 

Bucky nods, “Yeah, Stark, I always do.”

 

“Good,” Stark says, setting down his pen, “And where are you on wanting a prosthetic?” 

 

“You know where I am, Stark, the same place I’ve _been_ since it happened. I don’t want a fake arm, and I _really_ don’t want your fucking robot arm,” Bucky says, unable to pull back on the anger in his voice. “I really wish you would stop trying to sell me on it,” he continues, glaring. 

 

“Can I at least show you what I’ve made?” Stark asks, his eyes darting to the cabinet that’s just to the left of where Bucky’s sitting, “And then you can decide.”

 

Bucky’s about to tell him no _, hell no_ in fact, when Steve puts a hand on his knee. “Why don’t you just give it a look,” he says, sounding like Bucky does when he talks to Emma, and that’s enough to make Bucky grind his teeth, his head pounding. 

 

“ _Don’t_ ,” He warns, “Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking child, Rogers.”

 

“I’m just saying…” Steve trails off and Bucky actually shakes his hand off of his knee and pushes off of the table with his one hand, needing to move.

 

“If I—” Bucky starts after a moment of pacing, “If I let you show me this _thing_ do you promise to drop it? I don’t _need_ a robot arm.”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Stark says, sounding more excited than he has any right to be, “I will absolutely drop it if you’ll let me show it to you.”

 

Bucky snorts out a laugh, not meaning to, as he says, “That sounds like a fuckin’ line you’d toss at someone in a bar somewhere.”

 

“Would it work?” Stark asks as he steps around Bucky and opens the cabinet that Bucky eyes every time he walks into the room.

 

“Not on me,” Bucky says, shaking his head, “Obviously, because it hadn’t worked before today.”

 

“You need to come with him to all of his appointments,” Stark says to Steve as he takes a duffle bag out of the case, and Bucky has a weird moment because he had assumed, wrong apparently, that Stark would have some type of high end case for the arm he’d been creating. “He didn’t make Pepper cry this time, and he hasn’t yelled loud enough to draw a crowd yet, so you seem to make him more agreeable,” he continues, setting the duffle bag on the table that Bucky had been sitting on a few moment before, meaning Steve has a front row seat to the arm as Stark opens the bag. 

 

Bucky is standing next to the door and debating on making a break for it, because he really doesn’t want to see the arm, when Steve looks back at him and smiles. “It’s not going to bite, Bucky, it’s just an arm,” he says, quirking an eyebrow and that’s enough to make Bucky feel ridiculous as he takes three giant steps forward, coming to stand next to Stark and taking a breath before he looks down into the bag. 

 

“That’s it?” He questions, and he’s surprised to feel disappointment settling on his shoulders.

 

“That’s _it_? _That’s it_?” And now Stark is louder than he’s ever been, poking at Bucky’s right shoulder with a finger that’s rough, “Do you have _any idea_ how long this has taken me to get perfect? How many hours I have spent soldering stupid fucking pieces together, and you have the _nerve_ to say, ‘ _that’s it_ ’? I have spent _months_ on this arm, and you’re going to fucking be impressed if it’s the last goddamn thing I do.” He’s taking the arm out of the bag as he finishes his sentence, and Bucky is pleased to know that the unshakable Stark can indeed be rattled, as he’s mumbling under his breath, “ _stupid fucking asshole_.”

 

“It looks nice, Tony,” Steve says after a moment, brushing his fingers over the fine metal plates of the fingers, the arm now completely out of the bag and resting on top of the paper covered table, “Very slick.”

 

“Robotic,” Bucky corrects, “It’s fucking robotic.”

 

“Do you see this?” Stark asks almost rudely, pointing at the opening at the top where Bucky assumes his residual arm is supposed to go. “This,” He starts, and Bucky wants to laugh at how annoyed he sounds, “Is where your fucking arm will go, and it’s meant to connect to your nerves, so you’d have full feeling in the arm. Not that you fucking care since _that’s it_.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Steve says, again sounding like Bucky does when he’s talking to Emma, but since he’s not talking to _him_ like that Bucky allows himself to feel amused as Stark goes on to talk, his shoulders looking less tense as he talks about nerve reaction and how it’s a combination of an electrically powered prosthesis and a body powered prosthesis, and other things that Bucky ignores in favor of giving the arm a thorough once over, his fingers dragging across the surface plates of the outer bicep where there’s a painted on star, red, that stands out in stark contrast. 

 

“What’s with the star?” Bucky asks, interrupting Stark’s long winded explanation about the sensors in the hand of the prosthetic.

 

“Star, Star _k_ , geddit?” Stark laughs, sounding less annoyed than he had before, “It’s really just so I know who I was designing it for, you’re not the only one armed dude I have in my stable, James, so I had to make do.” Stark shrugs and says, “Be happy you didn’t get the one that had the anarchy symbol as the marker.”

 

“That would have been more appropriate than a star,” Bucky says, raising an eyebrow and holding back a laugh as Stark huffs out a sigh. 

 

“I genuinely dislike you, Barnes,” Stark says, shaking his head, “You’re an asshole, and not the fun kind.”

 

“I’m very fun,” Bucky replies, deadpan, “I’m just not your biggest fan and so I don’t try very hard.”

 

It’s Steve’s turn to shake his head apparently as he says, “You two would get along if you would just stop being assholes about it. So Tony made an arm you didn’t want, oh well, too late, he’s finished it—”

 

“It’s not actually done I—”

 

“—and _you_ aren’t excited because you didn’t want the arm in the first place, gee Tony I don’t know what you expected to happen,” Steve ignores Stark’s interruption in favor of standing up, rolling his shoulders slightly before he speaks again. “Tony, why don’t you go do something doctor-y somewhere else for like, fifteen minutes? So that Bucky can have some time to look over the arm without you breathing down his neck,” he says it in a kind manner, much kinder than Bucky would have if he was telling Stark to get the fuck out. 

 

“Don’t mess around with it,” Stark warns, glaring between the two of them before he exits the room, leaving Bucky and Steve staring at each other with the arm on the table between them.

 

“It’s a fucking robot arm,” Bucky says, his eyes narrowing as he watches Steve look at the arm, “I don’t _need_ a fucking robot arm.”

 

Steve touches the wrist of the arm on the table and then reaches out and touches Bucky’s wrist, playing bridge between the two. “It’s more than a robot arm,” he says, shaking his head, “Were you listening to anything that Tony said?”

 

“I really wasn’t,” Bucky answers honestly, “I’m not a mechanics man. I don’t need to know _how_ things work, just that they do. And this looks like it won’t do anything other than get in the way.”

 

“Do you really think Tony would make you something that would just _get in the way_?” Steve asks, and when Bucky nods his head he sighs heavily. “Well I don’t, and I know Tony well enough to know that if he thought all it would do is get in the way he wouldn’t have made it for you in the first place,” he says, and Bucky wants to smack him for sounding so invested in the fucking arm.

 

Bucky looks down at the arm again and slowly, because he doesn’t really want to shake of Steve’s hand but he needs to to be able to touch the arm, drags his fingertips from the top of the arm, over the stupid star, and down to the fingertips. He lingers, his fingers touching those of the arm on the table as he says, “Even if I said yes, it would look fucking stupid.”

 

Steve lets out a laugh and puts his hand on top of Bucky’s, pressing his hand and the hand of the fake arm together gently. “I think you need to see that to know for sure,” he says, his voice as gentle as his touch, and Bucky is feeling warm all over as he tries not to focus on how nice Steve’s hand feels against his. 

 

Bucky blinks and looks away, not sure when he and Steve made eye contact as he feels his cheeks warm. “I’m uh,” He pauses before gently extracting his hand from between the prosthetic and Steve’s hand, “I’m going to take a picture for Ray, get his opinion.”

 

Steve clears his throat loudly and looks away, missing the look that Bucky shoots him of confusion as he says, “Yeah, of course his opinion is important, right.”

 

“Well yeah,” Bucky says, “He’s my friend, so…” He trails off, shaking his head and taking his phone out of his pocket.

 

He forgot that he had sent Ray a text freaking out about Steve and Stark knowing each other until he thumbs open the unread text from Ray that reads _lmao i’m cackling homes, that’s the best thing i’ve heard today they’re def gonna double team u_. 

 

Bucky rolls his eyes and lines up the camera on his phone with the arm, shooting it off to Ray with the caption _look at this fucking robot arm that they want me to wear_. He finishes the text and send it before looking back up, catching the tail end of a weird look on Steve’s face. “Okay dude,” Bucky says, “What is up with that face?”

 

“It’s just,” Steve looks like a mixture between confused and concerned and it’s enough to make Bucky feel confused, “Aren’t you and Ray…together? Isn’t that why his opinion matters so much?”

 

Bucky barks out a laugh that startles him into covering his mouth as he continues to laugh. There are tears in his eyes when he’s finally able to choke out, “What the _fuck_? No, we’re not—” He cuts himself off with more laughter as he wipes at his eyes. He calms down enough that he’s able to see the look of concern on Steve’s face and it’s almost enough to make him laugh again. “Ray and I are friends, best friends, and okay maybe we’re a little codependent but we’re not _together_. He—you do know that he _has_ _a_ _boyfriend_ , right?” He says, bewildered that Steve would be so dense, “I’m always harassing him about Brad? That’s his boyfriend, crazy Iceman himself, Brad Colbert, that is Ray’s boyfriend. Not me.”

 

“But, you’re always together,” Steve says, and Bucky rolls his eyes, “And I thought that Brad was just the dude whose condo he’s living in while— _wow_ , okay, yeah I’m an idiot.” Steve’s face is bright red as he covers his eyes, missing the way Bucky has to suck his lips between his teeth so that he doesn’t burst into laughter again, “I just assumed because you guys were so close that…well, I guess that’s why they say what they do about assuming.”

 

“It makes an ass out of you and me,” Bucky says, nodding and managing to get his face in check as Steve uncovers his eyes and looks at him. “I can’t believe you thought that—Ray and I rarely even touch? And you’ve seen how he is with people, he’s very touchy, if we were dating don’t you think he’d be like, all over me? All the time?” Bucky asks, wanting so badly to text Ray and let him know how stupid Steve is but also feeling the need to clear the air. 

 

“I don’t know!” Steve says, throwing his hands in the air, “I just figured maybe you weren’t into PDA and he was considerate?”

 

“When in the entire time that you’ve known Ray has he ever been considerate?”

 

Steve lets out a frustrated noise as he shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says finally, “Never?” He pauses and takes a deep breath before he continues, “So, you’re single. You said that Ray has a boyfriend, you didn’t say anything about…”

 

Bucky’s cheeks heat up and he finally glances away and down at his phone. “Uh yeah, I’m single,” He answers as he opens the text from Ray, “Have been for a while.” 

 

_HOMES THAT’S THE COOLEST SHIT I’VE EVER SEEN I NEED TO TOUCH IT HOLY SHIT DUDE IF U GET THAT ARM DO U THINK WHEN YOU JACK OFF IT WOULD BE LIKE A ROBOT WAS DOING IT????? SO MANY SEX POSSIBILITIES AND YOU’LL MISS THEM ALL!!!! YOU DON’T DESERVE A SICK AS FUCK ROBOT ARM_

 

Bucky laughs and shakes his head as he reads the text over. _robot sex probably wouldn’t count against my asexuality card but also there are joints man, things could get stuck idk how good it would really be,_ he sends back before looking up at Steve again.

 

“That’s uh, that’s cool, that you’re single,” Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoids eye contact, “I am too.”

 

Bucky doesn’t know how to respond and the air is starting to become thick with tension, even Bucky can feel it, when Stark bursts through the door and cuts through it like a knife. “Please tell me you didn’t defile my arm,” Stark says as he steps up to the table and runs his hand over it carefully, wearing a pair of rubber gloves that he must have pulled on after he left them to it. 

 

“We didn’t,” Bucky answers, “But uh.” He stops, rubs his nose and then starts again, “If I wanted to try it on, how would I do that?”

 

“You are coming with him to all of his appointments,” Stark says to Steve, pointing at him but standing so close that he ends up poking him in the chest, “He’s never been so willing and I think I need to write this down in my diary as a Life-Changing Moment.”

 

“It’s not that serious,” Bucky says with a sigh, “I’ve just given up fighting because my head is trying to explode and I want to take the ibuprofen that I have on me, but can’t take until after the appointment.”

 

“Did you already take one today?” Stark asks as he goes over to the cabinet that he pulled the arm from originally, getting out another, smaller, duffle bag.

 

“No,” Bucky says, “I’m not supposed to take painkillers of any type before I see you. Your secretary has been very matter of fact about that.”

 

“Well,” Stark starts, and Bucky in curious about the way his eyes shift as he turns back to face him, “Pepper is uh, she has this certain way of getting back at people? And that way is uh, not so nice sometimes.”

 

Bucky blinks in confusion and then it clicks. “Are you telling me,” he sucks in a breath, “That your fucking secretary has been telling me for the past two months that I shouldn’t take anything before my appointments with you because _I made her cry, once_?”

 

“It was more than once,” Stark points out.

 

“I have been in pain, for no reason, because your stupid secretary is _holding a grudge_ ,” Bucky seethes, grabbing his pill case from his hoodie pocket, fishing out an ibuprofen and dry swallowing it before he continues, “She’s lucky if I don’t give her a reason to cry again!”

 

“She’s not stupid,” Stark says, “She’s one of the smartest people, other than me, that I know.”

 

Bucky looks at him and blinks. “I am having homicidal thoughts right now,” he says, “Maybe I shouldn’t try the robot arm on after all.”

 

“Oh buck up, Bucky,” Stark says, laughing at his own joke even as it falls flat. “Just try it on this one time, if you hate it I will drop the subject and never again mention it,” he insists, opening the smaller duffle bag and spreading out the contents on the table next to the arm. Bucky looks at all of the leather straps and has a flashback to the time he thought that maybe he _was_ into sex, it just had to be _different,_ and he explored the world of kink. He was wrong, it still wasn’t for him, and that’s exactly what he’s thinking as he looks at the straps that Stark is now waving in the air. “The straps would be temporary of course, just until we could get you a surgery scheduled,” he says and Bucky flinches at the thought of going under a scalpel again.

 

“Why would I need surgery? The doctors that did the surgery on my residual said that they did it well enough that when the time came and I wanted a prosthetic, I wouldn’t need another surgery,” Bucky says, feeling the anger creep up again. 

 

“Well that’s true if this was like, a regular prosthetic,” Stark says, looking at him like he’s missed something important, “Weren’t you listening to anything that I said before I left you alone with the arm?”

 

Steve laughs loudly, the first sound he’s made since oddly announcing that he’s single too. “He was not,” he says, shaking his head, “He said he doesn’t need to know how things work, just that they do.”

 

“Well no wonder you lost a fucking arm,” Stark says to Bucky, who shrugs and lets it go. He picks up the arm and cradles it in his arms as he says, “I’m going to explain it to you, because it’s important that you know why you’d need surgery, so please listen this time.” He pauses and points into the open part of the arm, “The reason you’ll need surgery if you decide to go with this one is because it has sensors that will be attached to your nerves, in here, and to get it attached to your nerves you need to be put under. If there was a less invasive way of doing it I would recommend that but as it is now there’s absolutely _no way_ to do what needs to be done without surgery.”

 

“You could have said that sooner,” Bucky says, “Because I’m definitely not going to go through with it now, not if I need to have another surgery.”

 

“Just try the arm with the harness at least, it will give you a better feel for the thing as a whole than just looking at it will,” Stark says, and Bucky would say he sounded pleading if he thought that Stark was capable of feeling anything other than smug at all times.

 

Bucky sighs and looks at Steve, who shrugs. “Alright,” he says, “I’ll try it on with the harness, but beyond that I’m not making any promises.” Stark smiles at him, which is more disconcerting than anything else that has happened today, and tells him to take off his shirt. After he hands the arm off to Steve to hold he starts draping the leather straps across Bucky’s shoulders once the hoodie is pulled over his head and dropped on the table, and Bucky hasn’t really missed having two arms until this very moment, because he wants nothing more than to fold his arms across his chest to cover up the heavy scarring. Bucky stays very still while Stark is tightening straps and mumbling to himself.

 

“Can you hand me the arm, Steve?” He asks, stepping back to look at the drape of the straps, and Bucky feels acutely like a science experiment in that moment.

 

Steve hands the arm over and Stark slides it carefully over Bucky’s residual, sliding a few of the straps through loops that Bucky didn’t even notice in the initial look over that he gave the arm, and then he tugs on it slightly when he’s finished. “It looks cool, Tony,” Steve says from his spot on the other side of the table.

 

“Of course it does,” Stark says as he tugs at a few more straps before taking a step back and crossing his arms across his chest, “I made it.”

 

“And you’re so modest,” Bucky snarks, looking down at himself and feeling ridiculous as he sees how pale and scarred he is next to the soft black leather of the straps. He looks around the lab and finds a full length mirror next to what Bucky assumes is Stark’s desk if the mess is anything to go by, and he takes a deep breath as he walks over, keeping his eyes on his shoes until he is standing directly in front of the mirror.

 

“So,” Stark starts from back by the table, “What do you think?”

 

“I think…” Bucky trails off, letting is gaze travel across the expanse of his shoulders and down the shining metal of the arm that’s hanging by his side. “It’s not as obnoxious as I was expecting,” He finally settles on saying, “But I don’t know if it’s worth having another surgery. Especially since that means that it will be a permanent thing attached to my body.”

 

“I’ll take that,” Stark says, nodding his head, “But the arm wouldn’t be what’s permanently attached to you, there would be a socket that’s a mixture of silicone and some other lightweight conductive materials, that’s what we’d attach to your body, that way you wouldn’t have to wear the arm if you don’t want to, but you’d always have the option.”

 

“How would that effect my nerves?” Bucky asks, staring at his reflection, “You said that the arm would be connected to my nerves, how will that happen if there’s a sleeve over my stump?”

 

“Nerves are all about electricity, right?” Stark asks, and Bucky shrugs because he’s not the doctor in the room. “Well okay, I’m telling you that nerves are all about electricity then,” he continues, shaking his head, “Well the way that I have this arm set up is that without the socket it won’t work at all, and the socket doesn’t transfer the electricity from your nerves anywhere until the arm and the socket are clicked into place together. So without wearing the arm your residual will feel just like it does now.”

 

“When I went to the specialist that you sent me to he said that I have severe nerve damage,” Bucky says even though he’s sure Stark has read over his file more than once in the time he’s had it in his possession.

 

“And that won’t be a problem,” Stark says, waving off Bucky’s concerns, “I need you to think long and hard about this arm surgery, because we’ll have to get you fitted for a socket before we can even think about doing the surgery.”

 

“So it won’t be…permanent?” Bucky asks, narrowing his eyes at his reflection and turning to the side slightly, watching the way the fluorescent lights in the lab shine off the metal.

 

“Not in the slightest. _Well_ , the only things that _will be_ permanent is the socket that’ll be attached to your arm but it’s not going to add too much bulk to your remaining arm,” Stark answers with a shrug, “So it shouldn’t be too much more than you’re used to.”

 

“So if I decided to just scrap the arm, the only thing that I wouldn’t be able to shake is the socket?” Bucky asks, not able to picture wearing the arm for longer than a handful of hours at a time because it’s a little… _much_ , he thinks as he watches it catch the light in the reflection.

 

Behind him, Steve finally speaks, and Bucky sees a glint in the eyes of his reflection before it’s gone as fast as it appeared, “It looks good, Bucky.”

 

Bucky suddenly likes the arm a little better than he did a few moments before. That’s not saying much considering he didn’t like it much before, but he’s not feeling the need to flinch when he sees the reflection of the arm again, which is better than nothing. “I uh,” Bucky stumbles and looks down at his chest, covered in leather straps, “I need to think about this. _Really_ think about this.”

 

Bucky turns to look at Stark, his face as serious as he can make it, and Stark looks like he’s about to shit himself. “You’re _actually_ going to give this some thought? Real life, actual brain using, thought?” Stark asks, looking for all the world like he just got told he’s started shitting gold.

 

“Real life brain power,” Bucky agrees, and Stark lets out a celebratory sound and pumps his fist, Steve smiling at Bucky wide enough that Bucky actually has to brace himself, blinking quickly. 

 

“You’re coming with him to _every_ appointment,” Stark says, grabbing Steve into a hug as Bucky laughs, shaking his head and tugging at the straps that are beginning to dig into his shoulders. “Oh shit,” Stark says, letting Steve go and going over to where Bucky is still in front of the mirror, facing the two of them, “Let’s get these straps off of you.”

 

“Thanks, they are kind of digging in,” Bucky says, Steve stepping up to hold the arm as Stark releases the straps holding it up, Bucky helps as best he can but there’s no real way that he can do much more than hold the discarded straps that Stark hands him in his real hand while he looks at Steve’s arms cradling the metal prosthetic. 

 

Steve catches Bucky looking and smiles at him as Stark finishes off removing the last few straps. “What’s this arm made of anyway, Tony? It’s surprisingly lightweight,” he asks, and it was something Bucky had noticed too, while it was strapped to him, but he hadn’t thought to ask. 

 

“That, my dear Captain,” Stark says, taking the straps from Bucky and the three of them walk back toward the table, “Is Titanium, one of the few metals that’s not only lightweight but also durable.”

 

Bucky has a horrible image of Ray sticking obnoxious magnets to the arm, which prompts him to ask, “Is titanium magnetic?”

 

“Oh you mean can you like, get MRIs and stuff with it? You’ll be fine, as long as you let the radiology tech know that you have a titanium limb which, it’s an arm and we live in Southern California, so I’m just gonna assume you’ll be in a t shirt,” Stark answers as Bucky struggles into his hoodie, his hair all over the place when his head finally pops through the neck hole.

 

“No, I mean like, will refrigerator magnets stick to it?” Bucky corrects, filing the other information away as he continues, “I have some asshole friends that would love nothing more than to stick magnets on my arm when I’m not paying attention.”

 

Stark laughs as he winds the leather straps around one another. “No,” He answers, “Titanium isn’t magnetic enough for even fridge magnets to stick to, but I can’t guarantee that they won’t try anyway.”

 

“They’ll definitely try,” Bucky says, and he suddenly remembers that he was waiting on a text from Ray, the one that is more than likely out right now buying magnets to throw at him. Steve laughs as Bucky takes out his phone and, without reading what Ray had sent back to his no robot sex reply, texts the other man, _the robot arm isn’t magnetic so you can put down the magnets i bet you were getting ready to throw at me._

 

He then reads the text that Ray sent, which is a string of sad faces followed by _oh man noooo, imagine pinching your dick with the metal finger joints i want to die just thinking about it._

 

_I would literally kill myself_ , Bucky sends back immediately, pausing for a moment before he adds on, _also i think steve hit on me???? not sure, more news at 11_. He shoves his phone back into his pocket after he hits send, happy that he managed to say it but also wanting to pretend that he really didn’t. His brain is a weird place.

 

And Speaking of brains, Bucky’s head is finally starting to feel better, at least in the sense that it doesn’t feel like someone is stabbing him between the eyes with an ice pick, as Stark says, “So, can we set your appointment for the socket fitting?” 

 

He blinks and takes his phone back out, opening the calendar app on it. “Well, I have an appointment set with you in a week in a half so can we just set it up for then? It’ll kill two birds with one stone and I won’t have to deal with you more than twice in a month,” Bucky says as he finds the day of his next set appointment.

 

“That should work,” Stark says, “It gives me enough time to get the materials together and also to double check your nerve test results to figure out how I’m gonna work with them.” He leads the two of them out of the lab as he continues speaking, “Once the ball gets rolling on this prosthesis it should take no time at all, and because it’s an experimental thing I’ve already gotten approval from your health insurance aka the United States government. I had high hopes that you would agree to it so I actually got the ball rolling even earlier than I normally would.”

 

“You were awfully sure of yourself,” Bucky says, shaking his head as he and Steve walk back out into the larger waiting room and Stark stays behind the glass of the receptionist desk.

 

Stark shrugs and hands over some sheets of paper to Pepper as he says, “Usually once you military guys see the metal you’re pretty gung-ho about the whole thing.”

 

Steve laughs at that, “I’m glad we’re so predictable,” He says, nudging Bucky with his elbow.

 

“Pepper,” Stark says as she hands some papers over for Bucky to sign, “I hear you told him that he couldn’t take painkillers before appointments with me.”

 

“Well I hear he’s an asshole that likes to make receptionists cry,” Pepper says, and Bucky grips the pen that he’s signing the papers with tightly as he tries not to think about throwing something at her head. “But I don’t go around telling people about it,” She says, quirking an eyebrow at Bucky when he hands over the signed papers a little harsher than necessary, the corners bent at an angle. 

 

Steve slings his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and it’s a testament to how annoyed Bucky is that he doesn’t even think about blushing or flinching away. “I believe that’s our cue to leave,” Steve says with an easy grin, “It was good to see you again, Tony.

 

“Likewise, Cap,” Stark says with a half-assed salute, “I was serious about what I said, you need to come with him to every appointment, you make him nicer.”

 

“Alright,” Steve says with a laugh, and Bucky shakes his head as Steve steers the two of them out of the hospital and toward where he parked. “How’s your head?” He asks as they stop by the car, Bucky reaching out to open the door and almost jerking in surprise when Steve opens it for him instead.

 

“Better,” Bucky says honestly, “That ibuprofen really helped. It didn’t however, help with the urge I have to murder Stark and the receptionist.”

 

“Well, you did make her cry,” Steve says with a laugh as Bucky slides into the passenger seat, picking up his sentences after he walks around the front of the car and opens the driver side door, “And also, red headed women are generally fiery.”

 

Bucky snorts before he says, “That’s a nice way to say bitchy.”

 

“That’s a sexist way to say rude,” Steve shoots back as he closes the door and slips the key into the ignition, waiting for Bucky to close his own door before he turns the car on.

 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Maybe so,” he says as he plucks his phone out of his pocket and drops it in his lap before buckling his seatbelt, “It doesn’t change the fact that I’m right.”

 

“Don’t be so bitchy,” Steve says smartly, and Bucky reaches across his own body awkwardly to slap Steve’s shoulder as he’s backing out of the parking spot. 

 

Bucky feels his phone vibrate with an alert and chooses to ignore it as he says, “So, what branch were you in exactly?”

 

“Oh,” Steve says, smiling over at him, “I forgot that I hadn’t told you yet, I was—”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray gets a surprise when he goes to check the mail

“Steve goddamn Rogers was a Navy SEAL that’s afraid of large bodies of water,” Bucky says a few weeks later to Ray, who invited him over for a movie marathon and snacks in a weird attempt to celebrate the fact that Bucky is finally getting over himself and agreeing to the surgery for the prosthesis. 

 

Ray is laughing so hard that he’s got his head on his knees, the two of them sitting side by side on the couch in front of his TV. 

 

“That is,” Ray manages to choke out, “The best thing I’ve ever heard.” Ray can hear Bucky laughing as well, and it sets him off again, his head still on his knees as he laughs so hard that his eyes are wet with tears. “That’s like being….a Navy SEAL that’s afraid of the ocean, oh my God, there’s literally no other way to make fun of this, holy shit,” he says after a few more moments of laughter. 

 

Ray finally sits up and wipes at his eyes with the palms of his hands as Bucky says, “That was the reaction I had when he told me.”

 

“And why did you wait so long to share, homes, this is the best information I could possibly have on Steve! Does he realize that we’re like thirty minutes from the beach, oh my God, we should have a beach party and invite him, d’you think that he’d bail because of the ocean?” Ray asks, and he feels almost lightheaded with the laughter that he can still feel bubbling just below the surface.

 

“I wanted you to still respect your boss,” Bucky says with a shrug. “And I also forgot that I hadn’t told you until this very moment,” he tacks on, and Ray giggles again.

 

“He could still break me in half with his pinky,” Ray says, “There’s no way that I’m going to lose the respect that I have for him. Except now I’m going to make as many ocean jokes as humanly possible.”

 

Bucky shakes his head and says, “If you can find any you’ll have to let me know, because I haven’t found any on my own.”

 

“You just don’t know how to find them,” Ray says, and he’s already thinking about how he can phrase the words in Google. “There’s got to be a semen joke that I can toss his way that will annoy him,” he mumbles, and he knows that Bucky hears him because he chokes off a laugh. 

 

Bucky slaps Ray’s knee and says, “Anyway, enough about seamen that can’t float, let’s talk about how your man is coming back in a few weeks.”

 

“I knew you wanted to make a seaman joke!” Ray says with a whoop, “And do we have to?”

 

“Yes we have to,” Bucky says, “Because you just smoked a whole bowl by yourself, out on the patio, so I know you’re stressing about it.”

 

“Homes, you have no idea,” Ray says with a sigh, leaning against the back of the couch, “Between Brad coming home for Libo, and Nate coming down to visit while he’s here this house is going to be full of testosterone and quiet sex.”

 

“I’m assuming that’s a bad thing?” Bucky says and Ray groans.

 

“It’s the worst, I’m horrible at being quiet, it’s literally the whole reason that Brad and I could never sneak away while in the field, homes,” he says honestly, thinking back on all of the time that he and Brad missed out on. 

 

“Aw, poor you,” Bucky says and Ray can hear the sarcasm dripping from each word, “How ever did you manage being around a man that loves you unconditionally and without you offering up sex. So hard.”

 

Ray lets out a laugh and shakes his head. “Hey, rude,” he says, reaching over to smack at Bucky’s arm, “And I managed it by being balls deep in Ripped Fuel, buddy, the only thing that got me through most of the shit over there.”

 

“Ripped Fuel is a hell of a drug,” Bucky says with a shake of his head.

 

“You’re telling me, man, when I was detoxing from the Ripped Fuel I tried to fight a dude that could literally eat me like a cookie, he was huge, and I realized it was a mistake as soon as he had me pinned and started hitting back,” Ray says, laughing at himself in the memory, “I was such a fucking mess when I ran out of that shit that I didn’t talk to anyone for almost a week and then suddenly I’m trying to beat the shit out someone that I had no earthly way of beating.” He shrugs as he finishes, “Getting the shit beat out of me was enough to snap me out of the post Ripped Fuel depression though, so I suppose it was a favor that he punched me in the fuckin’ face.”

 

Bucky is looking at him with a glint in his eye. “You were one of _those_ motherfuckers,” he says, shaking his head with a chuckle, “Of fucking course you were, too scrappy for your own good, bro.” He narrows his eyes, “You’re not going to make fun of Steve just to try to tempt him into beating the shit out of you, are you?”

 

“Nah homes, I’m going to make fun of him because he’s a fucking SEAL that’s afraid of the ocean, and I’m really hoping that he’s too nice to beat the shit out of me,” Ray says as he leans forward to grab his drink off the coffee table, taking a sip of the Mountain Dew before he speaks again. “I’m just saying, that’s going in my joke spank bank and I’m gonna pull it out at inopportune times and whenever it’s useful,” he says, and Bucky snorts.

 

“What the hell is a joke spank bank?” He asks.

 

“It’s like…where you put all the material for a good joke and you just like, sit on it until it’s joke time and suddenly it’s this amazing thing that you have,” Ray says, shrugging, “I don’t know why I called it a joke spank bank, it just sounds like that’s what it _should_ be called.”

 

“I get what you’re saying,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes as he continues, “But it’s a stupid thing to call it.”

 

“Well when you come up with a better idea, I’m all ears,” Ray says, letting snark color his words slightly. 

 

Bucky sighs and says, “I’m not letting this go, why are you so stressed about Brad coming home and Nate coming out to visit?”

 

“Because what if you and Brad don’t get along? Or you and Nate? You’re my best friend out here, but I need you and my other best friends to get along,” Ray answers honestly, “It’s freaking me out a little.”

 

“Poke and I get along just fine,” Bucky points out, and Ray knows they do because Poke told him just the other day that he had invited Bucky over to the house to meet the family, and that of course Johanna and the babies loved him. 

 

“I know you do, I think Poke likes you better than he likes me,” Ray complains, not feeling nearly as bitter as he sounds.

 

Bucky laughs and shakes his head, reaching out to clasp Ray’s shoulder. “He has nothing but glowing things to say about you when you’re not around, don’t worry,” he says, “Unless you count all the shit he says you did while high on Ripped Fuel. I mean, there’s no way you would get out of the Humvee in the middle of being lit up to yell at the Humvees behind you.”

 

Ray cackles and brushes Bucky’s hand off of his shoulder, but not before he gives it a gentle squeeze and sticks his tongue out at the other man. “Let’s say that happened, but it was because some fucking assholes couldn’t figure out how to execute a goddamn three point turn in the middle of an ambush, who would have thought,” Ray says, shrugging and cracking a grin at the look on Bucky’s face. 

 

“You whiskey-tango fuckface,” Bucky says, shaking his head, “That’s the kind of dumb ass shit that gets you fucking killed, bro.” He’s staring hard at Ray as he says, “I’m not letting you get away with not talking about Brad and Nate though.”

 

“You suck,” Ray says through a sigh, “It’s just going to be weird because the last time we were all together Nate didn’t know that Brad and I were a _thing_ , and _Brad_ didn’t know that Nate thought we were a thing, and the whole thing is just gonna be fucking weird.”

 

“Does Nate have a problem with you being queer? Am I going to have to kick his ass? Because I’ll fucking do it, man, I don’t care if he’s the almighty LT,” Bucky says, sounding serious enough that Ray doesn’t laugh it off and instead just shakes his head. 

 

“Nah, homes,” he says, “Nate is cool with it, it’s just going to be weird on my end, I think I’m overthinking everything, which is exactly what my therapist told me yesterday when I brought this up during our session, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s what I feel.” Ray is rolling his eyes at himself as he finishes up, “Nate is the best, and Brad is the best, and you’re the best, so I know everything will go swimmingly but I’m also a paranoid piece of _shit_ so.”

 

“Hey, you’re the best too, asshole,” Bucky says, smacking him on the shoulder, “You can’t say that kind of shit about my best friend.”

 

Ray holds his hand to his chest and flutters his eyes. “Aww, homes, that’s the first time you’ve ever said that I’m your best friend,” he says, and Bucky rolls his eyes.

 

“You _know_ that you’re my best friend, asshole,” Bucky responds, fluttering his eyes back at Ray, and Ray can’t stop the bubble of laughter that escapes. 

 

“You’re ridiculous,” Ray says, and he can feel the nerves that he’s been dealing with over the past few days lessen, his limbs finally relaxing enough that he kind of collapses sideways, his head in Bucky’s lap. “Pet me like a cat, please, because I am stressed and sad,” he says, and Bucky lets out a laugh but does start stroking his hair even as he calls him ridiculous under his breath, loud enough that Ray hears and smiles about it. 

 

————

 

After Bucky leaves a few hours later, leaving a ring of pizza crusts and chicken bones behind, Ray goes back to the couch and collapses face first onto the cushions. He lays there for a few moments, his mind blissfully blank, before he gets up again and goes about cleaning the mess that he and Bucky made in the kitchen. He’s just finished wiping down the counter when his cellphone rings loudly, vibrating across the counter slightly as he reaches for it.

 

The caller ID says it’s a private number, which means it’s either a sales call or Brad calling him, and it’s one of those days that he almost hopes it’s the sales call simply because he misses Brad so much that he’s going to get ridiculous. “Hands on Taxidermy, you kill ‘em, we fill ‘em,” Ray answers the phone, trying to sound serious.

 

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Brad’s voice is surprisingly clear down the line, clearer than it usually is.

 

“Because this dick is too bomb,” Ray replies quickly before saying, in a more serious tone, “Hi, I miss you.”

 

“Hi,” Brad says back, and Ray knows him well enough that he can hear the smile in his voice as he continues, “I miss you too, what are you up to right now?”

 

“Oh, now?” Ray asks, feeling ridiculously put on the spot as he drops the rag he used to clean the counters into the sink because he had still been clutching it when he answered the phone. “I was cleaning,” he answers honestly, shrugging even though Brad can’t see him, “Bucky left like, a half hour ago after a pizza and trash show binge day, because he was nervous about that arm thing he’s got in a few days and I have worked the past ten days without a day off, because my bosses are assholes.”

 

“You love your bosses,” Brad reminds him, and Ray swears he hears the dinging of a car door in the background but that can’t be right, and he looks over to the TV just in time to see the character on the screen getting into a car, and he shrugs it off, assuming it was on the TV. 

 

Ray sighs, “I do,” as he drops down onto the nearest dining room chair. “We’re trying to plan a protest because there’s a Lieutenant General that’s going to be at Camp P just after the beginning of the year, so I’ve been keeping tabs on the shop and shit while Natasha and Steve are in the back calling…well, I’m not actually sure who they talk to to get these types of things going, but between the two of them they’ve probably got pull in the fucking White House,” he says, resting his cheek against the hand that’s not holding the phone to his ear.

 

“And this is what you want to do?” Brad asks, and he sounds concerned which doesn’t surprise Ray in the slightest, “You’re going to be one of those crazy vets that shits all over war?”

 

“Let’s be honest,” Ray says, “I was already one of those guys when I was _in_ the war, now I’m just doing it with friends.”

 

Brad laughs down the line and Ray can’t help but grin as well. “That is true, and I would assume these friends will help you keep it to a normal level of dislike? And they’ll make sure that you don’t do anything stupid?” Brad asks, and Ray rolls his eyes.

 

“Let’s think about this, bro,” Ray starts, and Brad tisks at being called bro like he always does, “My best friend has one arm, and was vehemently against getting a prosthetic until some crazy doctor made him a sick ass robot arm. One of my bosses was, well, no one is actually sure _what_ Natasha did, because any time someone asks her she says we _don’t have clearance_. And my other boss was a Navy SEAL that was, oh man, Bucky told me this today and I almost _shit_ myself, Steve was a SEAL but _is afraid of the ocean_.”

 

Brad laughs as Ray talks, and Ray is struck with a wave of _love_ so strong that he feels nearly doubled over by it. “Left to your own devices you certainly make some interesting friends,” Brad says, sounding fond, and Ray frowns because he _misses him_.

 

“I’ll be happy when you’re back,” Ray says, biting his lip, “So that you can laugh at Steve with me, and hang out with Bucky.”

 

“Yeah,” Brad says, sounding odd, “About that, can you check the mailbox for me? I think they’re sending something ahead of me and I don’t want it just sitting in there.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll check it tomorrow,” Ray says, shrugging, “What are you up to? Having another bonding Disney marathon with your boys?”

 

Brad clears his throat quietly down the line, “Could you check the mail now? It’s kind of important and it really shouldn’t—”

 

“Fine, fine,” Ray sighs and stands up from the table, stepping into his already tied shoes by the door as he grabs the condo keys from the key hook, making sure that the mailbox key is on the one he grabs. “It better be a certified letter saying that you’re now pissing gold or something because it’s _late_ here, weirdo,” he’s saying into the phone as he opens the door and steps out onto the landing, locking the condo door behind him before he takes the steps two at a time, feeling only slightly out of breath as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and almost runs smack into someone that was apparently just _standing there_ like an asshole. “Sorry man,” Ray says before he looks up and nearly drops his phone in surprise. 

 

“Hey there,” Brad says, a huge duffle slung over his shoulder and an even bigger smile on his face. 

 

Ray slowly moves the phone away from his face and glances between it and the man standing in front of him before he hits the button to hang up the phone, watching as Brad does the same. “What…” Ray trails off, stuffing his phone into his pocket so that both of his hands are free, which he then uses to grab Brad’s shoulders and give him a hard shake.

 

“Not exactly the reaction I thought I’d get,” Brad says after Ray stops the shaking, looking entirely too smug for his own good.

 

“Well, if I had a gun, I’d shoot you,” Ray says, his hands tightening their hold on Brad’s shoulders. “Also, you’re still in uniform, and we’re in public, so I can’t greet you properly _anyway_ ,” he adds, his voice low enough that Brad actually has to lean in to hear him.

 

“Oh,” And now it’s apparently Brad’s turn to be surprised because he sounds like he is as he says, “Lead the way then, coffee wench.” 

 

Ray lets go of Brad’s shoulders somehow, his hands feeling like they’re on fire as he nearly trips up the stairs and to the condo door, which he unlocks and is nearly halfway through the door when he says, “Wait, didn’t you need me to check the mail?”

 

Brad laughs and pushes Ray the rest of the way into the condo. “No Ray, I didn’t need you to check the mail,” he says, shaking his head as his eyes roam over Ray’s body, and he feels uncomfortably hot all over as Brad’s eyes finally stop on his face.

 

“Oh, right,” Ray says feeling a bit breathless. “That was a whole rom-com thing you just did there, Bradley,” he teases, and Brad drops his dufflebag and pins him against the kitchen counter in nearly one fluid motion. 

 

“Don’t,” Brad starts, and Ray can feel it in his fucking _toes_ and oh, it’s one of those nights, okay, “Call me _Bradley_. That’s not even my fuckin’ name, _Josh_.”

 

“Sir, yes, Sir,” Ray says, his tone less than teasing as he lets his gaze land on Brad’s mouth, licking his lips when Brad’s quirk up into a smile.

 

“Uniform getting you hot, Ray?” Brad asks, pressing so close that Ray has to lean back over the counter slightly just to _breathe_. 

 

Ray goes to answer but has to clear his throat first, which makes him feel ridiculous. “If I say no, are you going to keep it on anyway?” He finally manages to get out, the flush that he can feel spreading from his cheeks down his neck giving away each and every thought that’s flying through his head.

 

“I think you’d rather I keep it on,” Brad says, lifting one of the hands from the edge of the counter to brush the back of his fingers against Ray’s cheek, and Ray didn’t know how hot he was until Brad’s cold fingers were against his flushed face. 

 

Ray swallows and leans into Brad’s touch. “I don’t care what you’re wearing,” Ray says as Brad moves his hand so that he’s cradling his cheek, his thumb brushing gently against his bottom lip, “I just really want to suck your cock.” Ray opens his mouth just enough that Brad’s thumb slips into his mouth and he grazes it with his teeth just slightly, watching Brad’s eyes go dark and getting that stupid _love_ feeling so deep in his gut that he actually lets out a slight gasp around Brad’s thumb. 

 

“Is that what you want?” Brad asks, pressing his thumb in just slightly more, pressing down on Ray’s tongue enough that he can’t actually answer with words, so he nods quickly. He removes his thumb from Ray’s mouth, dragging his spit slick finger across the other man’s bottom lip as he asks, in a much more gentle tone, “How do you want to do this?”

 

Ray really wants to be a smart ass, but his cock is so hard that he thinks he might actually _die_ so instead he lowers his gaze slightly as he answers, “However you want.” He sees the flash of heat in Brad’s eye and knows then that he made the right choice, and he can’t stop himself from leaning up and kissing the other man. _Finally_. 

 

The kiss must have been the crack in his composure that Brad needed, because as soon as Ray has lifted his arms to drape across Brad’s shoulders, sighing into the kiss, Brad’s hands are firmly placed on his ass. Ray can’t help it, and he giggles into the kiss slightly, trying to somehow push closer to Brad’s chest but also push back against his hands. They stand like that for a few more moments, messily making out against the counter, until Ray switches their positions and pulls away from the kiss, dragging his hands down to press against Brad’s chest. “Are we really going to do this in the kitchen?” Brad asks as Ray eases down onto his knees, “The wood will be hell on your knees.”

 

“While that may be true,” Ray says, and he has vivid memories of the fact that it will indeed be hell on his knees, “If I don’t get my mouth on your cock in the next ten seconds I might actually die.”

 

“I don’t think that’s entirely true,” Brad says, and Ray can feel his eyes trained on him as he slowly drags down the zipper on the slacks of Brad’s Dress Blue C’s. Ray’s enjoying the view, looking up smiling at Brad, who’s still got his blazer buttoned to the top. He would look completely together if his belt wasn’t undone and his fly open, his pants hanging wide and showing off the green boxers that he’s wearing beneath the uniform. 

 

“I know you’re bi,” Ray says as he reaches through the hole in the front of Brad’s boxers and pulls his cock out, licking his lips as he catches Brad’s eye, “But this color coordination is too much gay, buddy.”

 

Brad releases a choked laugh. “You can’t call me buddy when my cock is in your hand,” he says as he releases the death grip that he had on the counter, twisting the fingers of one of his hands gently into the Ray’s hair, which is a lot longer than it was when Brad left, and undoing the buttons of his blazer with the other, letting it fall open. 

 

“I would call you buddy with your cock in my _mouth_ if it was possible,” Ray grins, and with that he brushes his lips against the head of Brad’s cock, the hand in his hair tightening slightly as Brad’s mouth falls open in a silent groan. 

 

It takes Ray about as long to get back into the swing of things as he thought it would, which is to say, not very long at all. Both his knees and his jaw are feeling a little sore but the way that Brad’s hand is tightening in his hair, and the noises he’s making, more than make up for it. Which is what he’s thinking when Brad tugs at his hair hard while saying, “Nope, up, get up, you said however I wanted to do this.” Ray isn’t too proud to admit that he’s pouting as he stands up, his knees protesting as he does. Brad must notice because he curls a hand around the back of Ray’s neck once he’s standing and asks, “Alright?”

 

“‘m good,” Ray slurs out, his brain still trying to recover from the soft floating he always feels when he’s sucking Brad’s cock. He blinks slowly and looks at Brad, unable to stop himself from saying, “I love you.” Ray almost doesn’t realize he’s said it out loud, so used to just thinking it, that it takes a moment for it to catch up to him, and his stomach drops when he sees the intense way that Brad is looking at him. A look that should be ridiculous considering Brad had only just tucked himself back into his boxers, his pants and belt still hanging open, but in the moment Brad has never looked more frightening to Ray. 

 

“Do you mean it?” Brad asks, his voice rough, and Ray realizes that the hand that’s still gripping the back of his neck is shaking slightly, just enough that Ray suddenly doesn’t feel as much of an idiot as he did. 

 

Ray nods, swallowing before he croaks out, “Yeah, yeah I do.” 

 

“You can’t just say shit like _that_ ,” Brad says, shaking his head and pulling Ray into a kiss. “There has to be lead up,” he says after the kiss, and Ray laughs.

 

“You needed it to be a _moment_?” He teases. “Do you mean to tell me that my amazing dick sucking doesn’t constitute a moment?” Ray asks, bringing his hands up to frame Brad’s face.

 

Brad groans, “You know what I mean.”

 

“You wanted some big like, romantic comedy declaration of love,” Ray says sarcastically before he catches the look on Brad’s face which…”Oh my God,” he gasps, biting at his lip to stop from laughing again. “That’s why you did the rom-com homecoming, you’re secretly a _big romantic nerd_ ,” Ray says, delighted, using his hands on Brad’s face to squish his cheeks together, “This is the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

 

Brad reaches up and grabs Ray’s wrists, pulling his hands from his face as he rolls his eyes. “This shouldn’t be a surprise, asshole, I literally _write you love letters_ via email _._ Which you have also been doing,” he says as he holds Ray’s hands at his side. “So if anyone is the big romantic nerd it’s you, because you’re the one that said it first,” he insists and Ray can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up and out.

 

He’s grinning when he stops laughing, and Brad is looking at him like he’s trying to memorize his face, which Ray adds to his tally of big romantic things that Brad has done, a new list that he’s decided to start just now. “You should say it,” Ray goads, “I said it first so obviously I’m braver than you big, strong Royal Marine-man,” he says, tilting his head to the side slightly when Brad makes the face that means he doesn’t want to talk about something. 

 

“Do I have to?” He asks, and Ray headbutts his shoulder because his hands are still being held at his side, and he needs to do something out of frustration. 

 

“You’re the one that wanted it to be a moment, man, and now you won’t even say it? What kind of bullshit is that?” Ray says, keeping his head on Brad’s shoulder because he’s suddenly feeling very tired, and he knows it’s from that fuzzy feeling that he was feeling earlier, but he can’t stop the yawn that escapes which he tries to smother against Brad’s shoulder. 

 

Brad laughs and lets go of Ray’s wrists finally, moving his hands up his arms until they’re wrapped around his biceps and pushing him back slightly so that Ray is looking up into Brad’s face. “If you’re too tired to do anything you can just go to bed,” Brad offers, and Ray rolls his eyes even as he yawns again.

 

“You’re hilarious,” he says after his yawn, “You just got home after being gone for like six months, I’m not going to go to bed until we’ve at least talked about why the hell you’re home a full two weeks before you’re supposed to be.”

 

Brad makes that face again, the one that means he doesn’t want to talk about it, as he says, “Can’t we just say that the Royal Marines were nice enough to let me come home early and leave it at that?” Ray shakes his head and looks at Brad like he’s lost his mind. “Right, of course not,” Brad mumbles under his breath, and Ray touches his hip with one hand kind of awkwardly, his biceps still being held by Brad. “The big wigs at Camp P asked that the Royal Marines let me come back two weeks earlier than I should have for Libo because they want me to head up some training thing for Marines that are about to be sent over to Afghanistan and Iraq,” Brad answers with a sigh.

 

“You’re just too good at your job, Iceman,” Ray says, shaking his head, “So you’re home, but not really?”

 

“I have tomorrow to get over the jet lag, and then it’s off to work Saturday, bright and fuckin’ early,” Brad answers, and Ray smiles because he’s off on Friday as well.

 

“You mean today, it is after midnight,” Ray points out before saying, “I’m off as well, which is good because my shifts usually start at five AM so I would be screwed.”

 

“Five AM? That’s early for a coffee shop, isn’t it?” Brad asks, and Ray nods. 

 

“We’re like ten minutes from Camp P, so we cater to a largely military crowd from five to six, and then after that they like to pretend that we don’t exist because of what the shop is all about,” he answers and Brad shakes his head. “They don’t bother us much unless Steve or Natasha are being extra special that day and hanging up anti-war propaganda in the windows, which happens every few weeks,” Ray continues, and Brad sighs, looking at him with an intensity that would be unsettling if it were anyone else.

 

Brad doesn’t say anything for a moment, letting go of Ray and finally zipping up his pants, leaving the belt hanging open. “I’m happy that you’ve found somewhere that you feel like you belong,” he says, and Ray snorts. 

 

“But?”

 

“ _But_ , I really wish that place wasn’t somewhere like an antiwar coffee shop just a stone’s throw away from a Marine base,” Brad replies with a shrug, “I maybe worry for your safety sometimes.”

 

“Well don’t,” Ray says seriously, “Natasha could literally kill every Marine on the base without so much as blinking, and I’m sure that’s exactly what she would do if anything happened to any of us that work in the coffee shop. The Marines might not agree with us, but the ones that come in understand what we’re doing and why, and they all respect Steve and Natasha for some unspoken reason.” He reaches up and pats Brad’s cheek clumsily, his limbs feeling heavy with sleep and he is very annoyed that he’s as tired as he is because Brad is home and Ray’s almost afraid that if he falls asleep he’ll realize that it was all some weirdly realistic dream. “Don’t worry about me, worry about your men and getting your ass back home safe once you’re back in the fucking desert,” he finishes, giving him a small smile. 

 

“I need to meet these people,” Brad says, quirking an eyebrow, “Because there’s no way someone named Natasha can be as intimidating as you say.”

 

“You say that now,” Ray warns, “But you’ll see once you meet her.”

 

Brad smiles and lifts one of his hands, brushing at the hair that has started falling into Ray’s eyes, his attempt at growing it out actually working pretty well even if he does have a semi-boyband member haircut going at the moment. “I love you,” Brad says, and it’s so out of nowhere that it takes a second for Ray to process what he said.

 

“I knew it!” He says loudly. “And look at you,” he jokes, “You said it without there being a moment.”

 

“I hate you,” Brad says, and Ray laughs.

 

“You love me, and I love you, and we’re the most disgusting motherfuckers on the planet,” he says, reaching up and tugging Brad down into an enthusiastic kiss. “Oh my God,” Ray says after they separate a few moments later, his breathing heavy as he clutches at Brad’s shoulders, “Fick is never going to let this go because we are everything he said we were. This is so disappointing. I’m disappointed in us, Brad, why couldn’t we be the aloof assholes that never get feelings involved and just fuck around forever until you end up accidentally married with three kids.”

 

“There will be no kids, or marriage, because kids are the offspring of Satan and marriage is an ancient institution that people only enter when they think the person they’re with can’t be committed without some piece of paper saying, ‘hey asshole, you’re married’. Which we’ll never need because who else will love me other than you,” Brad says with a shrug as Ray laughs in agreement. “And I still can’t believe Nate knew without you saying anything,” he continues with a laugh, “I like to think we weren’t that obvious.”

 

“Nate is a fucking boy genius, Brad,” Ray points out, “And the rest of the men were fucking brain dead half the time so I don’t think we actually had to _be_ that obvious for Fick to figure it out.” He then pokes Brad in the chest with one finger as he says, “And don’t say that no one else will love you, you’re a very lovable person when you’re not being as asshole.” He yawns as soon as he’s done speaking and Brad takes him by the shoulders, turning him around to face the hallway the bedroom is down.

 

“Go to bed,” Brad insists, “I’m still going to be here tomorrow for the rest of the month, so there will be time to suck my cock.”

 

“But I said we could do whatever you wanted,” Ray nearly whines, and he’s glad he’s not facing Brad when he does because he cringes at himself. 

 

“And right now what I want is for you to go to bed,” Brad shoots back, pushing Ray down the hallway and into the bedroom, which Ray doesn’t fight because he knows it’s pointless, plus, he’s not opposed to a little bit of manhandling when the man handling him is Brad. 

 

He’s changed into his pajama pants and is tugging the sweater that he sleeps in during the winter on over his head when he feels Brad’s fingers on his bare back. “Touching me is not going to make me want to go to bed,” Ray manages to say through the fabric of the sweater before he manages to pop his head through the head hole, the fabric falling over his back, where Brad’s hands are still pressing against his skin. 

 

“Just saying hi to that dumb bunch of freckles that you have right on the middle of your back,” Brad says as he drops his hand, smiling when Ray looks over his shoulder at him. 

 

It’s apparently Ray’s turn to say, “I hate you,” even as his voice sounds horribly fond, “And so do my freckles.”

 

“Get in bed,” Brad says, sounding just as fond, “And if you’re really good I’ll let you suck me off in the morning.”

 

“I hate you,” Ray repeats as he climbs into bed, Brad standing at the foot of the bed and grinning at him, “You didn’t even cum, man, I don’t know how you can be so smiley.”

 

“It’s the love,” Brad manages to say with a straight face, and Ray fakes a gag as Brad laughs. “And I didn’t cum because I didn’t want it to be a quick and dirty one off in the kitchen when you’re so far under that you don’t really know what’s going on,” he says, sounding ridiculously honest, “You went under _way_ too quickly for me tonight, it was a little unnerving.”

 

“Yeah well,” Ray starts as he feels his cheeks flush, “That would be because it’s been six months since I’ve gone under and I apparently needed it more than I realized.”

 

“Tomorrow,” Brad promises, and Ray’s stomach flips with his words, “We’ll go slow and steady, which I know you hate, but I’m assuming that whatever I want will still be in play tomorrow?”

 

Ray nods and swallows thickly as he finally lays down on his side of the bed. “Yeah, of course,” he says, knowing that Brad prefers a verbal agreement with anything to do with him going under. “Now,” he says, lifting his head slightly so that he can see Brad, who’s now standing with his arms folded, “You should lay down too, because I’ve missed sleeping next to you and also if you’re just going to stand there and stare at me while I’m sleeping I will be obligated to call you a creeper for the rest of forever.”

 

Brad laughs and shrugs out of his blazer as he says, “I guess I should, which means I have to go grab my bag from the hallway.” Ray pouts as he sits up slightly, leaning on his elbows as he watches Brad head out of the bedroom and come back a few moments later, his huge duffle slung over his shoulder. He’s pushed his pants down his hips and onto the floor, catching Ray’s eye as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, “Now who’s being the creeper?”

 

“I am,” Ray agrees before he licks his lips and smirking, “Just enjoying the show.” Brad rolls his eyes but starts unbuttoning his shirt just a little more slowly which makes the smirk on Ray’s face grow. “Now wiggle your hips a little,” he says with a laugh, and Brad stops unbuttoning his shirt long enough to flip him off. Brad has his button down off and is pulling his undershirt off when Ray sees something that wasn’t there before he left. “Where did that new scar come from?” He asks, his eyes trained on a new scar that runs from Brad’s left hip to halfway up his stomach.

 

“Training incident,” Brad answers, and Ray can tell that that is all the answer he’s going to get when the other man quickly pulls on a black shirt that he’s pulled from his duffle, “It’s fine.”

 

“You didn’t tell me about a training incident,” Ray says accusingly.

 

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he replies as he pulls on his own pajama bottoms, “Or do what you’re doing now and trying to figure out who you need to kill.”

 

“I am _not_ trying to decide who I need to kill,” Ray denies even though he really was, already going through the list of names he remembers from Brad’s squad and trying to figure out on his own who he thinks it would have been, “And I don’t _worry.”_

 

Brad looks at him. “That’s bullshit if I’ve ever heard it,” he says as he grabs a book from his duffle and gets into bed with Ray, pushing his pillows up against the headboard so that he can rest his back against them as he turns the bedside light on his nightstand on.

 

“I don’t worry _much_ ,” Ray amends as he shifts so that his head is on Brad’s thigh, the other man holding his book with one hand as the other starts carding through his hair.

 

“Bullshit,” Brad says quietly, and Ray would reply but he’s already half asleep, the repetitive motion of Brad working his fingers through his hair succeeding in making him more tired than he had been.

 

—————

 

When Ray wakes up in the morning, alone, he’s almost convinced that Brad being there was a weird ass dream, but when he sits up in bed he sees the large duffle sitting in the middle of the floor. He’s grinning as he stumbles into the bathroom and pisses, washing his hands and brushing his teeth before he treks into the living room. “Brad?” He asks loudly as he sees the TV on, but no one sitting in front of it.

 

“In the kitchen,” Brad’s voice is deeper than normal, which lets Ray know that he did fall asleep at some point during the night. “I thought I would make breakfast,” he says, “But I see that you have literally nothing to eat in the house.”

 

Ray shrugs and makes a face. “Well, I wasn’t expecting you to be home yet so I didn’t have time to make it look more like I’m a functioning member of society,” He says as he walks into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Brad hands him a cup of coffee, the only thing in the house that Ray always keeps on hand. Ray opens the pill bottle that he keeps near the sink and pops a pill into his mouth, washing it down with the coffee as he waits for Brad to ask the obvious question.

 

“Finally on medication?” Brad asks, and Ray is taken aback by his wording.

 

“What do you mean by that?” Ray asks, and Brad gives him a look that practically screams _idiot_.

 

“You’re really going to pretend like I don’t know that you’ve needed to be on medication for a while?” Brad asks, not expecting an answer as he continues, “It’s an antidepressant, right?”

 

Ray blinks in surprise. “I-uh, yeah, it is. I actually just started taking this one a few weeks ago because the other one I was on stopped working…this one seems to be doing a better job of it, but it’s only been a couple of weeks so…” He trails off with a shrug. “How did you know?” He asks before taking a sip of his coffee and waiting for Brad’s answer, which comes after a few moments of Brad looking at him in silence.

 

“You were jacked up on Ripped Fuel in Iraq, and even at Mathilda,” he starts, his tone even, “But that’s not when I first saw you.” Brad takes a deep breath, sounding like he’s steeling himself to say more, “The first time I ever saw you, before we officially met, you were sitting in some shadowy corner all by yourself and just…staring at the weapon you had laying across your lap. Which, let’s be real, you wouldn’t have been the first Marine to fondle their weapon in the dark, but I then watched you pick it up and put it against your temple, before putting it back down and closing your eyes,” Brad’s voice catches in a few places as he speaks, but he doesn’t shy away from Ray’s stare.

 

Ray has a vivid memory of that day, they were in Afghanistan and it was hot, _too hot_ , and all he had wanted in that moment was to not be hot anymore, and to go home. It wasn’t the first time that he had thought about killing himself just to get everything to stop, but it was the scariest one because he had actually almost done it. What Brad doesn’t realize about that moment is that Ray had actually pulled the trigger when it was pressed to his temple, but the gun had dry fired. He didn’t realize that he hadn’t put bullets in the weapon before he went to his corner, and he was mentally berating himself as he had sat there with his eyes closed and the useless weapon in his lap. “That was a bad day,” Ray says, nodding, “A _really_ bad day.”

 

“You remember it?” Brad asks, and he sounds surprised, which for some reason amuses Ray.

 

“Of course I do,” Ray answers, “You don’t hold a gun to your own head and _not_ remember it. It was, what, two weeks before we officially met? When you found me in Encino Man’s Humvee and pushed your fucking shitty ass radio at me, telling me that my new orders were to fix it.”

 

Brad blushes, and Ray blinks in surprise at that because Brad doesn’t blush easily. “I had uh, I had been watching you since that day,” he says, and Ray hides a smile behind his cup as he takes another sip of coffee and Brad continues, “I heard that you were the best RTO in the camp, after asking around about you, and figured the easiest way to get to know you would be to get you to unfuck my radio.”

 

“So what you’re telling me is that you’ve been creepy since day one,” Ray says easily, watching as Brad’s cheeks brighten even more, and this time he doesn’t hide the way that it makes him smile as Brad takes a long sip of his own coffee, seemingly trying to hide behind it as he gets his blush under control. 

 

Brad speaks after swallowing his coffee, and he narrows his eyes. “I shouldn’t have told you, now you’re going to harass me for being creepy when really I was concerned,” he says as Ray grins at him. 

 

His grin grows bigger as he thinks of something. “Did you have me unfuck that piece of shit radio because you had a _crush_ on me?” He asks it almost gleefully, and doesn’t miss the way that Brad tries to hide behind his coffee again, “Holy shit, you totally did. You had a crush on the dude that you watched almost off himself, that’s some tragic Shakespeare shit right there.”

 

“I didn’t _have a crush_ ,” Brad denies, “I just wanted to get to know you better. And I heard through the grapevine that the best way to do that was to get you to unfuck my radio or my comms, and my comms were fine.”

 

“And so was I,” Ray teases as Brad rolls his eyes. “It’s okay, I almost shit myself when you came up and told me to fix your radio because you were the fucking Iceman, and you were too attractive to walk around shirtless like you did back in Afghanistan,” he tells him honestly, wanting to share something with Brad because he was so open, “I _totally_ had a crush on you, in case you were wondering, which is absolutely why I was so quick to unfuck your radio.”

 

Brad lets out a laugh as Ray sips at his coffee. “I just thought you were a fucking _genius_ ,” Brad says, “And that’s why it only took you like fifteen minutes to unfuck it.”

 

“Nah man,” Ray says, “It was because you were both hot and terrifying. Which, in case you didn’t know, seems to be my thing.”

 

“Yeah?” Brad asks as he sets his empty coffee cup in the sink, “D’you still think I’m terrifying and hot?”

 

“I think you’re terrifyingly hot, if that’s any consolation, but I don’t think you’re terrifying, not anymore,” Ray answers honestly as he polishes his cup of coffee off, setting the cup in the sink next to Brad’s. He’s almost expecting what happens next, which is the only reason he doesn’t freeze up when Brad pins him against the counter, Brad’s chest pressing against his back. 

 

Brad leans down and presses a kiss to the spot right behind his ear that makes his knees fucking shake. “Really?” He asks, his voice low against Ray’s ear.

 

“This isn’t terror, this is arousal,” Ray points out as he presses back against Brad, his ass grinding just slightly against Brad’s cock as he continues, “Heavy, heavy arousal.”

 

“Are we still doing anything I want?” Brad asks, and Ray doesn’t even need him to finish the sentence before he’s nodding quickly.

 

“Absolutely,” Ray answers as Brad steps away from him just enough for him to turn around and face him, “Whatever the hell you want to do I am one hundred percent up for.”

 

Brad is looking at him like he wants to eat him, which is a thought that makes Ray shiver slightly and press up against Brad’s front, his hands settling on his hips as Brad’s hands cage him in against the counter. “Go take a shower,” Brad says finally, stepping away from Ray and leaving him feeling cold, “And when you’re done I want you on your knees in the bedroom, at the foot of the bed. I’ll come in when I’m ready.” When Ray pushes off of the counter to make his way towards the bathroom his legs are shaky, and he can feel that fuzz that always clouds his brain when Brad gets like this slowly settling around him, making his limbs feel heavier than usual as he steps into the bathroom and closes the door gently, stripping off his pajamas. His shower is quick but thorough, washing all of his nooks and crannies, and he steps out feeling more settled than he did, toweling himself off and making sure his hair is dry enough that it won’t drip and make him uncomfortable as he’s kneeling in the bedroom. He carefully hangs the towel back up and grabs his pajamas from the floor, taking them with him into the bedroom and setting them on top of his pillow before he goes back to the foot of the bed and kneels on the ground facing the door, his arms crossed at the wrist loosely behind his back and his head down. It feels like hours before Brad finally comes into the bedroom, but Ray knows that it couldn’t have been that long as Brad speaks from the doorway, “You did good.” Ray wants to thank him, but Brad didn’t say anything about talking, which he must realize because he says, “You can speak, Ray.”

 

Ray lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding as he says, “Thank you, Brad.”

 

“Don’t thank me yet,” He replies, and he sounds as wound up as Ray feels, his limbs tight with anticipation as Brad steps fully into the bedroom, his feet stepping into Ray’s line of sight as he stops in front of him. “Since you’re being so good I want to do something for you,” Brad says as he winds his fingers in Ray’s hair and tugs, forcing him to look up at him, “Would that be okay?”

 

Ray has to clear his throat before he can answer. “If that’s what you want,” he says, and Brad tugs on his hair hard enough to hurt, which sends a shiver down Ray’s spine. 

 

“That’s not what I asked,” Brad snaps, and Ray’s mouth goes dry at the look in his eyes, “I asked if you would be okay with me doing something for you.”

 

“Ye—Yes,” Ray stutters out, “That would be okay w—with me.”

 

Brad smiles at him, and Ray is reminded that Brad is a predator, he kills for a living, and the smile he’s got going on at the moment looks more predatory than anything else. Ray shivers as Brad says, “Stand up and lean over the bed, legs spread to hip width.” Brad doesn’t take his hand from Ray’s hair until he’s stood up completely and is turning around, and that’s only to relocate his hand to the small of Ray’s back as he leans over the bed, resting on his elbows as he widens his stance slightly. 

 

“Is this good?” Ray asks, looking over his shoulder and choking on a breath when he watches Brad lick his lips as he gazes at him. 

 

“Perfect,” Brad says, reaching out with the hand that’s not still resting on the small of Ray’s back and dragging it down his spine. “Eyes forward please,” he says, his voice deep enough that Ray swears he can feel it shiver down his spine. 

 

Ray turns his head forward, looking at the headboard as he feels Brad’s hands travel across his back and down his thighs, he’s just closed his eyes when he feels the wet press of a mouth at the very top of his tailbone, and it’s shocking enough that his eyes shoot open. “You’ve never—” Ray starts to say, and he chokes off with a groan as Brad’s mouth travels further down until it’s where he thought it was heading. Brad is eating him out and Ray has to force himself to not move his hips back against his face, because the feeling of _lips_ and _tongue_ and _stubble_ is enough to have his cock dripping against the sheets on the bed. 

 

He whines when he feels Brad pull away, his back arching slightly in an attempt to get his mouth back on him. “You can cum whenever you want,” Brad says, and that’s all the warning that Ray gets from the other man before he grabs his cock and goes back to working him over with his mouth and tongue. 

 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Ray says, his eyes squeezing shut as he feels Brad’s hands tighten their hold on where they’re holding his ass apart, Brad’s stubble scratching just _so_ against him every time he moves his jaw. He knows he’s not going to last long, not like this, and he manages a choked out, “oh my God,” before he’s shaking with his orgasm. Brad works him through it, and by the time Ray is able to open his eyes he can feel Brad’s mouth on his shoulder, his teeth biting down as Ray realizes that holy _shit_ Brad is jacking off on him, and he groans again. 

 

“You’re so _fucking_ —” Brad mumbles as Ray shifts under him, pushing his ass up against where Brad is fisting his cock quickly. 

 

“I want you to fuck me,” Ray says, his voice low as he feels Brad stiffen on top of him. “Please, I want your cock in me I just, I—” He stops talking as Brad pulls away, standing up.

 

“Get on your back, Ray, _fuck_ ,” Brad says, his voice too wrecked to sound as forceful as his other orders had been.

 

Ray scrambles onto the bed and flips onto his back, spreading his legs as Brad climbs onto the bed between them. “The lube is,” Ray stops and points to the bedside table on his side of the bed and Brad reaches into the drawer and grabs it, popping the bottle open and slicking up three of his fingers before he closes it and drops it on the bed next to Ray’s hip. 

 

Brad slides one and then two fingers pretty easily into Ray as he’s still loose and pliable from being eaten out. “I love you,” Brad says as he’s working the third finger in and Ray can feel himself shake, his heart beating quickly as his back arches.

 

“ _Fuck_ , I love you too,” Ray responds, and that’s apparently all Brad needed to hear before he would fuck him because he wraps Ray’s legs around his waist and slides his cock into him in nearly one move. Ray lets out a loud moan of pleasure as he feels himself being stretched, no pain because Brad was _very_ thorough, and grabs at Brad’s shoulders. Brad stays still for a moment, and Ray forces his eyes open so that he can watch Brad’s face as he starts thrusting slowly, getting himself as deep as he can before he pulls back out, and Ray is mesmerized by the flush that’s spilling from Brad’s cheeks to his neck and down onto his chest. 

 

Brad leans down and kisses Ray, and Ray can feel himself tense up, as the shift in position causes Brad to hit his prostate head on. “I missed you, I missed _this_ ,” Brad mumbles as they separate from the kiss, his tone sounding almost reverent, which makes Ray groan and close his eyes. 

 

“I missed you— _fuck_ —too, Brad, oh my God, I love you so much,” Ray chokes out, and he hears Brad’s breathing stutter before he groans and, God, Brad’s cumming in him and Ray knows it’s going to be a mess but he can’t help but moan because he loves the feeling of being so full of _Brad_.

 

Brad pulls out after a moment of not moving, and Ray feels himself pout at the loss. “You’re such a baby,” Brad teases, and Ray opens his eyes to see Brad grinning down at him, still flush from his cheeks down to the middle of his chest. 

 

“That’s a weird thing to say to the dude you just came inside of,” Ray says, his words only slurring slightly as Brad laughs. 

 

“Don’t pout then and I won’t have to say it,” Brad says as he reaches out and brushes his fingers across Ray’s lips, Ray opening his mouth just enough to catch the tip of his middle finger between his teeth gently and give it a firm suck. “If I hadn’t just cum my brains out,” Brad starts as he eases his finger out or Ray’s mouth with a smirk, “I would absolutely make you suck my cock.”

 

Ray smiles up at Brad, who is still settled between his legs, as he says, “Whenever you’re down for it, old man, I’m always up for sucking cock.”

 

Brad raises an eyebrow as he asks, “Been sucking a lot of cock lately?” 

 

Ray laughs, “You know I haven’t, _Sir_ ,” he says the last word in practically a purr, pushing himself onto his elbows as he continues, “You _know_ I’m only talking about sucking your cock.”

 

“I know,” Brad agrees, “But it’s always nice to double check.” He moves Ray over until he’s laying on his side of the bed and then he lays next to him, the two of them laying on their sides and facing each other as he says, “I love you so much too.”

 

“That totally made you cum,” Ray teases as he leans forward to press a happy kiss to Brad’s cheek, “Because you’re a big romantic nerd.”

 

“Nope, I’ve changed my mind, I hate you,” Brad says with a grin, reaching up with a hand and pushing it into Ray’s face, making him tip and sprawl on his back. 

 

“You _loooveee_ me,” Ray laughs, his stomach swooping as he realizes that Brad really does love him. 

 

“Shut up,” Brad says, leaning over him to give him a kiss. The two of them quietly make out, innocent enough until Ray starts getting hard again, and he grinds up against Brad. They don’t get out of the bed for the rest of the day.

 


	8. Chapter 8

“You look way too happy,” Natasha says the next morning as Ray walks into Mainside, fixing the collar on the polo shirt that he had to wear just to cover up some of the marks that Brad left behind. 

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ray denies as he clocks in on the register, typing his number in without really looking as he does. 

 

Natasha narrows her eyes at him as he smiles. “Holy _shit_ ,” she gasps, “Did you fucking cheat on your boyfriend? Because you got laid, and he’s not supposed to be back for like, two weeks.” She gets in his face, “I don’t know him, but I’ll have to beat the shit out of you on _principal_.”

 

“I didn’t fucking cheat on Brad,” Ray rolls his eyes, “Can’t a guy just be happy?”

 

“Sure, a guy can, but you can’t,” Steve says as he comes out of the kitchen with a tray full of pastries, which he sets down on the counter before saying, “You’re not exactly a happy guy.”

 

“Okay fine,” Ray snaps. “Brad actually uh, he came home early? He showed up at like midnight on Thursday and totally rom-commed me into the gayest shit I’ve ever been a part of,” He explains, and he can’t stop the smile that breaks out across his face as he does. 

 

Natasha and Steve cheer happily and grab him up into a group hug. “When are we going to meet this mysterious boyfriend?” Steve asks after the group hug breaks up. 

 

Ray shrugs, “I’m not actually sure? He’s home but he’s not _actually_ on Libo yet, he’s on base training some newbies on things to expect over in the armpit of the world.” He makes a face before he continues, “He’s doing that for two weeks and then he’s off for real until he’s needed back with the Royal Marines.”

 

“You should invite him over this morning before he’s needed for duty,” Natasha invites, and Ray shakes his head.

 

“He was needed on base at four this morning to finish up some paperwork and to get settled in. I told him my hours today, and he knows the name of the place so if he decides he wants to, he can probably find someone that can tell him where it is,” Ray replies with a shrug, “And Steve, you can’t tell Bucky yet!” He exclaims as he sees Steve grab for his phone, “I haven’t told him yet, so you can’t either!”

 

Steve sticks his tongue out at Ray but drops his phone back into the pocket of the apron that he’s tried to insist everyone else wear, which, when he tried to talk Ray into he had laughed in his face and told him that he was _gay enough without wearing an ugly ass apron, homes_. “Yeah, yeah, take the only joy in my life away from me, why don’t ya?” Steve says, rolling his eyes.

 

“I know texting Bucky is the greatest joy in your life, but can you at least hold this bit back until he comes in later?” Ray asks, laughing when Steve’s cheeks redden and he tries to sputter out a response.

 

“You’re the actual worst person,” Steve manages to say finally before he turns to head back into the kitchen saying over his shoulder, “Put the pastries in the display case, asshole!” 

 

Ray does, grabbing the tray and carrying it over to the display case, setting the baked goods carefully behind their proper, handwritten, signs. “So when are he and Bucky gonna just kiss and get it over with?” Natasha asks as she walks over to the front door, flipping the sign from closed to open. 

 

Ray sighs and sets the last pastry on the tray into the case. “I have no idea,” he answers honestly, “Any time I mention it to Bucky he changes the fucking subject, bringing up how ridiculous I am for worrying about him and Brad getting along.”

 

“Well, at least after they meet you won’t have to worry about that, and then he can’t change the subject while you do the digging,” Natasha says as she gives the counter a final wipe down as she steps up behind the register. “Don’t forget, Steve and I have a meeting over near the base with some people that might be able to set us up with a pretty good protest area, so you’ll be on your own from about ten until eleven-thirty,” she reminds, and he nods along as he goes over to the coffee carafe, making sure that the coffee is actually brewing. 

 

“I know, I’ll try and get all the dirt I can while there’s nothing else for him to distract me with,” Ray laughs. “And I vaguely remembered something about that being today,” he continues as he leans his hip against the counter and asks, “Where is the location they’re trying to get you?”

 

Natasha looks like she has stars in her eyes as she answers, “Right off of the beach, over near Camp P.”

 

“Prime spot,” Ray agrees as the bell over the door dings as it opens, and the two of them don’t have much time to speak until Natasha and Steve are heading out the door just as Bucky is walking in. 

 

————

 

“Hi Bucky, bye Bucky,” Steve says as they pass in the doorway, Steve holding the door for Bucky and Natasha even as Ray harasses them about leaving him just after a big rush like the one they just had.

 

Bucky waves at Natasha and Steve as he walks up to the counter. “Brad came home after you left Thursday night,” Ray says without warning, and if Bucky had a drink in his hands he probably would have dropped it.

 

“Why? What happened? Was he injured?” Is the first thing Bucky thinks to ask because hello, look at him, of course it is. 

 

“Oh God no,” Ray answers, shaking his head quickly, “They just wanted him out here to lead a training thing before the Royal Marines  take him away for good for a while, so they gave him the two weeks before his official Libo to be back stateside over on the base.”

 

“But he’s going to be living in your place still? Or are they forcing him to stay on base?” Bucky asks before pausing and adding on, “Also, I’m super excited for you, but I can’t really show it right now because I haven’t had coffee yet. Which means I’m down for anything.”

 

Ray laughs and rings him up for a large iced something, and he’s pulling the shots of espresso for it as he says, “He’s staying in our place, and literally all we did yesterday was fuck.”

 

Bucky makes a face and says, “That sounds awful. I mean, great for you guys, but awful for me to hear about.”

 

“I’m not going to tell you details, homes, chill, I just—at least that takes care of the problem that I was complaining about Thursday, about having to be quiet for the reunion sex,” Ray says, and Bucky laughs as he thinks back to the conversation they had a few days previously.

 

“Yeah, that did seem to be the biggest issue you had with your friend Nate staying with you guys,” Bucky says as Ray hands over his finished drink, taking a sip the moment it touches his hand. “I go in Monday for the final fitting of the socket before the surgery at the beginning of the year,” Bucky says, having gotten the call from Pepper from Doctor Stark’s office the day before, “I’m a little nervous but I’m also just…very ready for this to be over.”

 

“So you’re actually going to go through with it? That’s sick, bro,” Ray says, reaching across the counter to weirdly fist bump Bucky’s hand as he continues to hold his cup. “I’m proud of you! Look at my best friend, flourishing and growing,” he teases, “So when are you going to tell Steve that you want to marry him and have his undoubtedly disgustingly beautiful babies?”

 

“Oh God,” Bucky groans, taking a sip of his coffee. “I almost told him yesterday that I maybe have a thing for him but, did I tell you that he thought you and I were together?” Bucky says, not being able to remember if he did.

 

“What? No! Oh my Lord that is the best thing I’ve heard today, how did that even come up?” Ray asks as he wipes down the counters.

 

Bucky shakes his head as he takes another sip of his drink. “It was back when I had that migraine and he drove me to my appointment? He said something about how your opinion must matter the most to me because we’re together and I was so confused because like? You talk about Brad literally all the time? So after I set him straight he got kind of weird and said ‘so you’re single then’ like obviously I’m single!” Bucky explains, and Ray is doubled over the counter by the time he’s done telling the story. 

 

“He’s the dumbest person in the world, holy shit,” Ray chokes out, and the bell dings over the door which makes Bucky glance over his shoulder at the man that’s just entered. He’s tall, and entirely too good looking to be looking at Ray, who is still doubled over laughing and apparently hasn’t realized the door opened, as fondly as he is which is when things click into place. 

 

Bucky puts his coffee down as he turns to look at the man fully. “You must be Brad,” he says, wiping his hand off on his jeans as the taller man approaches, and that’s enough to get Ray to stop laughing almost immediately. 

 

“Bucky, right?” Brad asks, and Bucky nods, his mouth quirking into a half smile when he notices that Brad’s very pointedly not letting his eyes stray below his shoulders. He accepts the hand that’s offered for a shake and is surprised when the other man pulls him into one of those weird bro hugs that he’s never really understood. “Thank you for taking care of Ray,” Brad says quietly before saying in a louder, more brash tone, “I know he’s an asshole, but he’s my asshole, so thanks for not killing him.”

 

Bucky laughs as Brad lets him go, stepping back to get his hand back on his coffee. “He’s an entire asshole, and now that you’re back I’m glad to be rid of him,” he says and Ray makes an indignant noise behind him. 

 

“I am not an asshole!” He denies, and both Brad and Bucky laugh at him.

 

“You’re absolutely an asshole,” Brad says, and Bucky wants to scream at the smile that he’s throwing Ray’s way, “But if you were any different you wouldn’t be able to stand me.”

 

Ray shakes his head at Brad and Bucky kind of wants to melt into the floor, mostly so he can watch them watch each other without being super creepy. Brad and Ray seem like complete opposites, Brad being tall and blond and muscled as fuck, and Ray being shorter than Bucky is with the same dark hair and he’s the wiriest former Marine that he’s ever come across, but even Bucky can tell that there’s an insane amount of love between the two of them. It’s kind of gross, but Bucky also wants to take a picture and send it to Steve so he waits until Brad walks up to the counter to order a drink and sets his cup by the chair that he usually sits in when it’s just he and Ray in the shop, the one facing the counter just enough that as he drops into the chair it’s not completely odd for him to take his phone out of his pocket. Which he does, managing to frame the two of the men at the counter in the phone perfectly before he snaps a quick picture and sends it to Steve with the caption _!!!!!!!!! BRAD !!!!!!!!!! they’re so gay i want to die_. 

 

“So,” Brad starts as he drops into the chair that’s next to Bucky’s, startling him slightly, “Ray tells me that you’re getting some type of robot arm? That’s pretty cool.”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes as he sighs. “It’s not really a robot arm,” he explains, “It’s more like a human arm made of titanium? It’s really just the metal that makes it look robotic, it’s not like it will be able to do any fancy robot things…I don’t think.”

 

“And the doctor, is he any good?” Brad asks, sounding genuinely curious.

 

“He’s not _bad_ ,” Bucky answers honestly, “But if you ever tell him or Steve that I’ve said that I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident, I have a reputation to uphold. And the reputation just happens to be that I can’t stand that cocky asshole Doctor Stark.”

 

“Make it look like an accident? What, were you special forces?” Brad asks and both Bucky and Ray, who’s just walked over with a cup of coffee in his hand, laugh.

 

“He was a fucking _sniper_ , how badass is that shit, bro?” Ray answers for him, and Bucky waves it off as his phone vibrates against his thigh.

 

Bucky picks his phone up and opens the text from Steve just as Brad says, “How many times do I have to tell you that within forty-eight hours of my cock being anywhere in you, you are not allowed to call me ‘bro’?” He snorts as he reads over the text which is really just an incomprehensible collection of letters and numbers followed by two rows of exclamation points. It’s then followed by a text from Natasha telling him that whatever he sent Steve seems to have turned him into a fawning mother, so it better have been a picture of a kitten. He sends her the picture that he managed to sneak as Brad directs another question to him. “Does it get old?” He asks, and Bucky tilts his head slightly in confusion.

 

“Does what get old?” He asks, a million things running through his head at once.

 

“People staring at your arm, or well, where your arm should be,” Brad clarifies and Bucky is surprised to find that he doesn’t actually mind the way the question is phrased.

 

Bucky looks over at the empty space as he reaches for his iced drink, taking a sip as he pauses to think the answer through carefully. “Sometimes,” he says finally, “I don’t mind it so much when I’m first meeting someone because like, yeah, it’s definitely one of the first things you notice about me. That would be like if someone had fuckin’ green skin like, yeah, you acknowledge it once but if you keep harping on the green skin they’re probably gonna want to punch you in the fuckin’ face. It’s like that, except the people that I want to punch in the face are the ones that immediately go from asking how it happened to asking when I’m going to get a fucking prosthetic. Like, out of everything I just told this person, the only thing they’re worried about is when I am going to fill out a shirt or jacket like _they_ _think_ I should. That’s what bothers me. Well, that and people that try to pretend like I’m not missing my fuckin’ arm like yeah buddy, I’m very aware.”

 

Brad nods at him and takes a sip of his coffee before he says, “I can imagine that would be annoying. Well don’t worry, I’ve definitely noticed and I’m also not gonna ask you how it happened.” Bucky laughs as Brad turns to Ray and says, “This is actually really good, why can’t you make coffee this good at home?” 

 

Ray narrows his eyes at Bucky as he laughs even harder. “Don’t encourage him,” he nearly whines as Brad grins, and Bucky notices the smile enough to think that he’s suddenly and very aware of just what Ray would see in the other man. “It’s the beans, Brad, the beans make the brew but you’re too cheap to buy the good ones,” Ray continues as Bucky’s phone vibrates on his thigh, causing him to look down at it, “So I’m stuck with Folgers.”

 

_omg i have a sudden need for this meeting to be over rn they’re the cutest thing ever, no wonder steve looked like he’d seen kittens_ , Natasha has sent back, and Bucky covers his smile by rubbing his chin on his shoulder, turning his face away from where Brad and Ray are now bickering over the amount of coffee cups in their cupboards. 

 

“There’s no reason to have more than fourteen mugs, that’s two for each day, and that’s only necessary when _I’m actually home_ ,” Brad is saying, and Bucky laughs again because he knows how many mugs Ray has collected over just the time he’s known him, and there’s definitely more than that. 

 

“Mugs are very important,” Bucky defends, and Ray grins at him. Bucky rolls his eyes and tucks his phone in his pocket before he grabs his drink again. “I have probably twenty mugs and I only have one hand,” he says honestly, which gets a laugh from Brad, who surprised himself if the look on his face as he laughs is anything to go by. 

 

“Bucky gets it,” Ray says, pointing at Bucky with double finger guns as the bell over the door rings and he backs toward the register, greeting the person that has just walked in with a cheerful hello.

 

Brad and Bucky sit in a companionable silence until Steve and Natasha come barreling back into the shop nearly a half hour later, Brad nearly dropping the book that he had picked up from the coffee table as Natasha steps up in front of him. “Be nice, Natasha!” Ray says from behind the counter as he finishes ringing up a customer that had come in a few moments before the owners of the shop, “Brad isn’t used to women being terrifying.”

 

“I’m not terrifying,” Natasha denies with a smile that, from what Bucky can see is more predatory than welcoming, “But that’s not to say that I won’t kill you and eat the corpse if you hurt Ray.”

 

Bucky isn’t surprised to see Brad kind of shrink back from Natasha before he seems to get a hold of himself and stands up, towering a good foot taller than her as he says over her head, “Ray, what have I told you about adopting dogs that are all bark?”

 

“But _Braaaddd_ ,” Ray laughs as he hands the waiting customer her coffee with a smile and a wave, “She’s so pretty! And also, I’m pretty sure her bite is worse than her bark.”

 

Bucky is hiding behind his drink and trying so hard to not pay attention to the pissing contest going on in front of him that he’s startled when someone touches his shoulder. “You alright today?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at Bucky’s twitch of surprise. 

 

“Didn’t sleep well last night so I’m a little jumpy, sorry,” Bucky replies with a shrug. Which is entirely true, Bucky was up and down all night with nightmares, but he’s not going to tell Steve that a majority of those nightmares involved, in one way or another, different ways that Steve could die in front of him, leaving him as helpless as he was back when they hit the IED and everything went to shit. He takes a moment to look at Steve, his eyes tracing his jawline as the other man tilts his head to watch, amused if the smile he has is anything to go by, as Natasha and Brad try to one up each other with tales of things they’ve done in the field. Bucky isn’t listening, and he doesn’t know what comes over him as he asks Steve in a quiet tone, “Can I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

 

Steve looks at him and must see something on his face because he says without hesitation, “Yeah, of course.” Bucky stands up and the two of them head back into the kitchen, the only one that notices the two of them heading back there is Ray, who gives Bucky a thumbs up once Steve’s back is turned and then goes back to watching his boyfriend and boss try to out warrior one another. “Well that’s exciting,” Steve says with a laugh as he grabs his apron from the back of the door that they just walked through, “Do you mind if I bake while we talk? I have to get some bread proofing for tomorrow.”

 

“That’s fine,” Bucky answers, and his palm is sweaty enough that he wipes it on his pants, pretending to check the time on his phone as he does.

 

“Did you want to talk about why you didn’t sleep well last night?” Steve asks, sounding interested and Bucky wants to die a little, his nerves rocketing up to eleven. 

 

“No,” Bucky says quickly before hesitating, “Well, yes? And No. I don’t want to talk about it but I probably should.” Steve makes a sound and glances at Bucky as he tries to formulate what he wants to say. Bucky watches Steve mix the wet ingredients for the bread together as he thinks. “I like you,” he says finally, and he says it so quickly and quietly that he’s almost afraid that he merely thought it. 

 

“I like you too,” Steve says, sounding confused as he pours the wet ingredients in with the dry ingredients slowly. He looks over at Bucky who must be making some sort of face because he says, sounding unsure, “You didn’t just mean friends, did you?”

 

Bucky shakes his head quickly and looks away from Steve, not wanting to face him as he says, “I have this like, ridiculously earth sized crush on you and I just, I wanted to tell you because you’ve been ridiculously good at dealing with my fucking doctors appointments that you don’t even _need_ to go to with me but you _do_ , and I want to get it out now before it morphs into something that I don’t want to acknowledge.” He lifts his hand to his face and covers his eyes for a moment before he lets it drop, finally looking over at Steve who is standing silent and looking at him like he’s grown a third head. “And you’re probably not interested, which is fine! Because you’re a fabulous friend, and I’d rather have that than nothing so can we just pretend I never said anything? This was a mistake and I really—” Bucky’s cut off by Steve covering his mouth with his hand gently.

 

“Can I talk now?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods his head jerkily, “I’m gonna move my hand but just, don’t leave, okay? And maybe look at me?” Bucky nods again and Steve drops his hand from his mouth, taking a step back and smiling at Bucky as he finally makes eye contact. “Well I was going to make the bread while we talked but I think right now I need to make sure that you don’t try and book it out of here,” Steve teases and Bucky wants to exist in this moment forever, because he hasn’t been turned down so he doesn’t have to feel too embarrassed…yet.

 

“I’ll try not to if you still want to mix it,” Bucky says, and Steve narrows his eyes at him as he holds one finger up before he quickly pours the last of the wet ingredients into the stand mixer and turns it up to knead. 

 

Steve turns to Bucky, who is leaning against the counter across from him, and says, “I’m gonna start by repeating that I like you too. And by that I mean I want to fuckin’ go to every doctor appointment with you because you’re important to me, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to do anything alone. Also, it’s because I have a big gay crush on you. But mostly because you’re one of my best friends and I wouldn’t know what to do without you, if I’m completely honest.” Bucky blinks at Steve in disbelief and his stomach feels like there’s about four hundred moths fluttering around in it.

 

“Uh, what?” Bucky asks, not sure he heard Steve correctly, because there’s no way that someone with their life together would so much as _look_ at Bucky let alone have a crush on him. “That’s not—you can’t actually…” He trails off because Steve is looking at him like he’s grown three heads again.

 

“I can’t what?” Steve asks, not waiting for an answer as he continues, “I don’t really think it’s up to you if I have a crush on you or not, Bucky. And why wouldn’t you want me to have a crush on you when you’ve just said that you have one on me? Isn’t that a good thing?”

 

Bucky lets out a rough laugh as he shakes his head. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, Steve, but I’m a fucking _mess_ ,” he can feel himself shaking slightly as he stares down the other man, “You _shouldn’t_ have a crush on me, I’m the actual worst person for someone like you. I have one arm and take two different pills daily just to be semi functional, that’s not to mention the pain pills that I can pop at any given time. Or the fact that I don’t have a fucking job? I’m the last person that someone like you should be interested in.”

 

Steve crosses his arms over his chest as he stares back. “You keep saying that, _someone like me_ , do you realize that I’m not exactly in tip top shape either? My wounds might not be as visible as yours, but I had to watch multiple squads of men get shot and die, I _watched you get blown up_ , and you’re not the only one that takes pills to be functional, Bucky. I have sleeping pills at night, antidepressants in the morning, and my own batch of pain pills because believe it or not, I got fucked up over there too. What I _didn’t_ realize was that you were so self centered,” He says, sounding genuinely surprised, and Bucky shrinks back from him as he breaks eye contact again. 

 

“I’m not self centered,” Bucky argues, “I’m just saying that there are plenty of people out there that would be a lot better for you than I am. Because I’m so fucked up.”

 

“And maybe that’s true,” Steve agrees, and Bucky flinches and has to bite his tongue to not say anything as Steve continues, “But I don’t want _them_ , I want _you_. Because it’s hard enough to find someone with shared life experiences, it’d be impossible to find someone with shared life experience that _wasn’t_ fucked up considering just what those shared experiences entail.”

 

“So, you just like me because you know that I’m fucked up,” Bucky says, and he can’t stop the way that he sounds resigned. 

 

Steve shakes his head firmly as he steps closer to Bucky, resting both of his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, “That’s not it at all.” Bucky is surprised at how carefully Steve is touching him, his hands just barely resting on his shoulders as he looks up into Steve’s eyes, noticing for the first time that there’s a bit of green in them. “I like you because you’re…” Steve pauses, screwing up his face up in thought, “You’re amazing. You’re one of my best friends, and I’ve never felt like there was something that I couldn’t tell you, no matter what it was. You’re also the strongest person I know, and that’s including Natasha, and I’m honored every day that you’ve picked me to be the person that is with you through this whole arm process.”

 

“You kind of invited yourself, and then Stark wouldn’t let me come back if you weren’t with me,” Bucky protests, and he can feel Steve staring at him hard enough that he shifts his feet. “But I wouldn’t want anyone else with me,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. 

 

“You need to realize that you’re not alone out here anymore, Bucky, between me and your co-dependent bosom buddy that’s currently refereeing the pissing contest out there,” Bucky laughs slightly and shakes his head, surprised to feel a tear escape and roll down his cheek. Steve lifts one of his hands from Bucky’s shoulder and uses his thumb to wipe it away as he continues, “You’re not alone in this, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you are because that’s a dark place to be.”

 

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” Bucky says, laughing at himself as he tries to blink the tears away, “This isn’t exactly how I imagined this would go.”

 

“It is a little more dramatic than I imagined,” Steve says, cupping Bucky’s cheek and wiping under his eye again with his thumb, “Which I’ve done. A lot. Because I’ve maybe had a small crush on you since I visited you in the hospital in Germany.”

 

Bucky hadn’t been conscious much once he was medevaced, between the pain and the painkillers he had been floating somewhere above his body for nearly two weeks after they hit the IED, but he does vaguely remember having someone hold his hand and talk to him. “Wait,” he says, raising an eyebrow, “Were you the one that was holding my hand and talking about comic books? Because I don’t remember much, but I do remember that they went on a tangent about Aquaman being under appreciated?”

 

Steve huffs and nods, “Yeah, that was me. They had said that you were more out than in and maybe if someone sat with you and talked it would pull you back into the land of the living, I didn’t mean to hold your hand but that was the only thing I could think to do with my own hands.” He laughs at himself as he continues, “He can literally talk to fish, I don’t understand how the Justice League can just toss him to the side! He could be their biggest asset and instead he’s the comic world’s biggest joke it’s just—”

 

Bucky cuts him off with a kiss, partly to get him to stop talking about Aquaman but mostly because he remembers the way that Steve’s hand had felt against his, the one thing that had tethered him to his body at some points. He had dreams of the man that had talked to him for _months_ after, the shadowy figure featuring prominently when he wasn’t dealing with nightmares. He must have surprised Steve with the kiss because it takes him a moment to react, but when he does Bucky can almost feels his toes curling in his beat up Converse. Steve’s hand is still on his face, and he uses it to tilt Bucky’s head back slightly, deepening the kiss as Bucky winds his arm around Steve’s waist. 

 

“Steve! Do you know where Bu—OH MY GOD!” Natasha is loud as she barges into the kitchen, Steve and Bucky breaking apart quickly as Bucky feels his face heat with embarrassment.

 

“Were they kissing! Tell me they were kissing!” Ray yells as he opens the door and Bucky knows he can tell what was up, because Steve hasn’t actually moved away from him so he’s still essentially pinning him to the edge of the counter he’s leaning against. “Holy shit! You were kissing! This is the best day of my life!” Ray crows as Natasha pushes him back out onto the floor when the bell over the door rings.

 

“Get out, go do your job,” she hisses as she closes the door and leans against it, holding it shut as she turns to look at Bucky and Steve, who by now have a few feet between them. Bucky doesn’t know what she’s about to say, but the fire in her eyes tells him that it might not be good. “If either of you fuck this up I will cut off your dicks and feed them to you,” she says finally, her voice cold enough that Bucky believes her, which he would have any way but the tone of her voice is really selling it. “Bucky, I love you, but if you hurt Steve I will beat the shit out of you with that fancy robot arm you’re about to get. And Steve, I love you as well, but if you hurt Bucky I will beat the shit out of you with your stand mixer,” she says and Bucky glances at Steve, who he finds looking back at him. 

 

“I’m not going to purposefully hurt Steve,” Bucky replies, as carefully and as honestly as he can, his cheeks still burning with the embarrassment of being caught.

 

“Me neither,” Steve says, smiling at Bucky wide enough that he can’t help but smile back.

 

“Well now that this is finally a thing,” Natasha says, waving her hand between the two of them and pushing off of the door, “Why don’t we tell everyone about the protest area that we managed to persuade them to give us today.”

 

“Oh, you got it?” Bucky asks as Steve motions for him to go first, the three of them walking out of the back and onto the shop floor.

 

“We did,” Steve replies as Ray and Brad begin applauding as soon as they see them. 

 

“Ray, I hate you,” Bucky says as his cheeks heat up again, only having just faded, “And Brad, I don’t know you enough to know this, but I hate you too.”

 

“Love you too, sweet cheeks,” Ray says, blowing Bucky a kiss, “Now what did you get, Steve? Other than _luucckkyyyy_.”

 

Natasha cackles as Steve flips him off and Bucky glares some more. “You know how we had that meeting earlier? It was just a formality which we found out at the end, they were always going to give us permission to use their grounds for the protest, they just wanted to make us sweat a little,” she says after she’s done laughing, “It’s all set up for the third week in January.”

 

“Hell yeah,” Ray says, “Should we start making flyers and shit?”

 

“I’ve got the flyers,” Steve answers as Bucky touches his wrist gently before he walks out from behind the counter and back to his usual chair, avoiding meeting Brad’s eye as he sits down. “I like drawing them,” he continues as he smiles at Bucky, and Bucky’s stomach flips again as he smiles back. 

 

“You guys are too much,” Natasha says as she hip checks Ray away from the register after the customer that he was helping leaves with their coffee. “And you need to go on your lunch, or your last break, or whatever it is you’re supposed to do right now,” She says to Ray who laughs as he lets himself be manhandled by her away from the register. 

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ray says as he gives her a half assed salute and walks around the counter to the chairs that Brad and Bucky are sitting in. Ray hesitates next to Brad’s chair before he simply touches his shoulder and walks to Bucky’s chair, dropping onto his lap and sprawling. “So what are my two favorite angry people talking about over here?” He asks as he adjusts, throwing one leg over the arm of the chair and twisting so that he’s facing Brad. 

 

Bucky, who is very used to this kind of thing, lets Ray wiggle around for a minute until he has to say, “Ow, fuck, your bony ass is digging into my thigh can you move just a little just—yes, like that, thank you,” He lets out a sigh when Ray is finally settled and looks over at Brad, who has an eyebrow raised but otherwise doesn’t look bothered. “He’s like a goddamn puppy,” Bucky explains, which makes Brad laugh and reach out to grab at Ray’s ankle, and Bucky can tell he must squeeze it or something because Ray lets out a nearly silent sigh. He hadn’t thought until just now how hard it must be for them to be a couple, Ray obnoxiously out and proud and Brad still enlisted, a proud Marine before anything else. 

 

“Hey homes, at least I don’t hump your leg,” Ray says, wiggling the foot that is in Brad’s hand before the other man lets go. The three of them get involved in a quiet conversation, just shooting the shit, until the bell over the door rings a handful of minutes later and the three of them glance in the direction of the sound. “Wade Wilson! My third favorite man!” Ray says from Bucky’s lap, pushing himself to his feet as Wade waves over at him. “I got him,” Ray says to Natasha as he makes his way back to stand behind the register. 

 

“Who’s that?” Brad asks Bucky, and Bucky blinks at the tone of his voice. Is Brad…jealous? Bucky can’t help but smile as he replies, “That’s Wade Wilson, one of the guys from the tattoo shop in this same parking lot. And don’t worry, Wade is happily…well, he’s happily fucking a couple of different people at all times, but Ray is not one of them because Ray is ass over chin for you, buddy.”

 

Brad makes a sound like he’s blowing off the information, but Bucky can see his shoulders drop as the tension leaves his body. “Is he one of the tattoo artists?” He asks, and Bucky can see him glance back to the register where Wade and Ray are chatting as Ray pulls the shots of espresso for his drink.

 

“He’s one of the piercers. Actually, I think he’s the _only_ piercer,” Bucky answers, “I still haven’t met everyone that works in the shop, just him and one of the artists, Clint, along with his apprentice Wanda. They’re all pretty cool, if tattoos are your thing.”

 

“I have been looking for a new tattoo artist,” Brad says just as Wade and Ray walk toward their area, Ray dropping back down onto Bucky’s lap as he sticks his tongue out at Brad. 

 

“You don’t need a _new_ tattoo artist, you need a tattoo artist _period_ , because that piece of trash on your back is an eyesore,” Ray teases as Wade settles onto the remaining chair in the triangle of them. 

 

He takes a sip of his coffee before he says, “My boy Clint is really good, if you’re looking for recommendations. I’m Wade by the way, Wade Wilson.”

 

“Brad Colbert,” Brad greets, waving, “And that’s good to know. Next time I come back on a leave that’s longer than a month I’ll definitely take you up on that, because as much as I love tattoos I do not love going out into the field with a fresh one.”

 

“I wouldn’t know, but that does sound like hell,” Wade agrees, and Bucky makes a face because it really does sound like hell. 

 

Brad looks surprised. “Have I finally found someone that’s not a fucked up veteran?” He asks, sounding more interested than Bucky would expect. 

 

“Well I’m definitely fucked up, but no, I’m not a veteran,” Wade answers.

 

“And we forgive him for that,” Ray says with a grin, “It also makes him the smartest one out of all of us.”

 

“Everyone’s a comedian,” Natasha says as she walks over, smacking Ray’s head and almost getting Bucky in the face. “Sorry, doll,” she apologizes and Bucky waves her off as Wade stands up and, weirdly, pulls Natasha into a hug. 

 

“Happy birthday, ‘Tasha,” Wade says, and a pin drop could be heard in the shop as Bucky and Ray look on in disbelief. 

 

Bucky feels like he’s been punched in the face as he watches them hug. “Natasha, why didn’t you tell us that it’s your birthday?” He asks, frowning. 

 

“She hates birthdays,” Steve says as he carries a plate of cookies out from the kitchen and brings them to the group, setting them down on the coffee table in front of the others, “She thinks they’re an unnecessary showing off of existence.”

 

Natasha is glaring at Wade as he pulls away from the hug and drops back into his chair. “He only knows what my birthday is because I got my nipples pierced _once_ and he hasn’t let it go since,” she says, rolling her eyes as she heads back to the register, greeting the customer that’s just walked in. “It’s really not a big deal, guys, it was actually a few days ago anyway,” she continues as the customer stands back to look at the pastries in the case.

 

“She’s serious about disliking them. I once tried to throw her a surprise birthday party when we first became friends and she punched me in the face, _actually_ _punched me in the face._ And then lit the gifts on fire,” Steve says, and Bucky and Ray laugh until Bucky realizes that Steve is serious, and he smacks Ray’s side to get him to stop. “I wish I was joking, because my house smelled like burnt plastic for nearly two weeks,” Steve says with a shrug, waving a hand over the cookies. “You guys need to try these and tell me if they’re good. I’m trying a new recipe that I’m not sure about yet,” he continues, and Ray leans off of Bucky’s lap, nearly tipping over as he grabs four from the plate, handing two to Bucky as he settles back down. 

 

Bucky takes a bite and groans. “Holy shit Steve, how do you keep making such good cookies?” He asks after he’s swallowed the crumbs, “This is, of course, the best cookie I’ve ever had.”

 

“I second that,” Ray says around a mouthful of cookie. “Brad, don’t be such a sour puss and have a goddamn cookie,” he says after he swallows and before he shoves the second cookie into his mouth. 

 

Bucky laughs under his breath as he watches Brad lean forward and grab a cookie, closely followed by Wade. “You always say that they’re the best cookies you’ve ever had,” Steve points out which causes Bucky to shrug as he finishes off his second cookie. 

 

“They’re always the best cookies I’ve ever had, you just keep getting better,” Bucky says, and Steve’s cheeks flush red enough that he can see it from where he’s sitting. He wants nothing more than to kiss him again and so he clears his throat, after swallowing, and nudges at Ray until the other man stands up. 

 

Ray rolls his eyes as he watches Bucky stand up. “Where are you going, homes? You literally have nothing going on on Saturdays. Ever,” he points out as he raises his eyebrows.

 

“I don’t, usually, but right now I would like to go make out with Steve in the kitchen,” Bucky says, honest to a fault even as his cheeks burn. The look on Steve’s face is worth the loud laugh that Ray lets out, and it’s twice as worth it when Steve reaches out to grab his hand and leads him back into the kitchen. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aww more smut, heed the light bondage tag

It’s a week and a half later and Ray still isn’t over the fact that Steve and Bucky are a thing, which he brings up any time Bucky decides to talk to him. “And you said that Brad and I were super gay,” he says as he holds his phone to his ear ,”You’re literally taking him home for Christmas.”

 

“As true as that is,” Bucky says down the line, and Ray can hear the eye roll, “I’m only taking him with me so that I don’t have to feel bad about him not having anyone to spend Christmas with. You know that he’s an orphan?”

 

“So you’ve said, a few times,” Ray acknowledges. “That doesn’t make this any less of a meet the parents type of situation, at Christmas, which is the most cliched you would ever be,” he adds on, laughing when he hears Bucky sigh loudly.

 

Ray shifts to hold the phone with his shoulder as he stirs the pasta sauce that he has cooking on the stove, the noodles boiling rapidly on the burner next to the sauce. “I just don’t think anyone should be alone for Christmas, and he said that he usually stays at home and eats Chinese food which, that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard, bro. I couldn’t let him do that again, not when Rebecca has been on my ass about meeting some of my new friends anyway. If Brad wasn’t here for the holidays I would be dragging you back east too,” Bucky says, and now Ray has another reason to be thankful for Brad being back home. “Let’s not forget the fact that you and Brad are _hosting Hanukkah at your house_ , so you can’t say that me and Steve are any gayer than you and Brad. At least we’re not hosting dinner, we’re just eating at my sister’s place,” he chokes out a laugh as it’s Ray’s turn to sigh. 

 

“I know, it’s the gayest thing we’ve ever done,” Ray says, grabbing his phone and hitting the speakerphone button before he sets it down on the counter. “I have you on speaker,” He warns before he continues, “I would say the only thing that might be gayer is the whole rom-com homecoming that Brad pulled at the beginning of the month.”

 

“That was the gayest thing I’ve ever heard of,” Bucky agrees, “But also, it’s so cute I want to die.”

 

“You literally made out with Steve just because he made some bomb ass cookies, homes, you can’t say anything about something being so cute you want to die,” Ray says with a laugh as he lifts the pot of pasta off of the stove and takes it over to the sink to strain the water out. 

 

Bucky falls quiet on the phone and Ray uses that moment to run the sink, rinsing the noodles off before he lifts the strainer and dumps the noodles back into the pasta. “Please tell me you didn’t just rinse your noodles off again,” Bucky pleads, and Ray snorts out a laugh as he sets the pot of noodles back onto the stove. 

 

“I could tell you that but it would be a lie, and I know you hate that more than you hate me rinsing the noodles off,” Ray says as he turns the heat off on the sauce, allowing it to stop bubbling before he lifts the pot of sauce and dumps it into the pot of noodles. 

 

“Oh God,” Bucky groans, “And don’t tell me, you just put the whole thing of sauce in the pot with the noodles, didn’t you?”

 

“Again, I would tell you no but that would be a lie,” Ray laughs as he stirs the sauce into the noodles. “And what do you care, you’re not the one that’s going to be eating the spaghetti tonight, Brad and I are, and Brad doesn’t seem to mind the way I make it,” he says, shrugging even though Bucky can’t see him. 

 

He picks the phone up and takes it off speaker phone just as he hears Brad’s key in the door, pressing it back to his ear as Bucky says, “That’s because he hasn’t had good spaghetti a day in his life. And he loves you too much to tell you that _rinsing the noodles makes the sauce stick less_.” 

 

“Brad, please tell Bucky that you like my spaghetti,” Ray says as soon as Brad opens the door, holding his phone out at the man, “He’s harassing me about it.”

 

Brad rolls his eyes but takes the phone from him. “Hi Bucky,” he says, sounding tired. He listens for a moment before he laughs and shakes his head, “Yeah I know that, but good luck telling him that. He swears that his mama taught him that it’s the best way to—”

 

Ray grabs the phone from Brad and says, “Hey! You’re not supposed to agree with him, you’re supposed to agree with me!” He puts the phone back up to his ear as he says, “And you, James Buchanan Barnes, are not supposed to turn the man whose dick I suck against me and my delicious spaghetti.”

 

“You’re making it _wrong_ ,” Bucky complains even as he laughs.

 

“I will not listen to this blasphemy any longer, call me when you and Steve are done being nauseatingly adorable,” Ray says, and he waits for Bucky to say goodbye before he hangs up the phone and tucks it into the pocket of his pajama pants. He smiles at Brad, who’s just finished taking his boots off by the door, and says, “I’m glad you’re home early! I was prepared to have to heat it back up later.” Brad straightens up and pulls Ray into a kiss as he gets close enough, Brad’s hands rough with dirt where they touch his face. “If you just got dirt on my face I’ll kill you,” Ray mumbles into the kiss, and he sighs as Brad pulls away to check.

 

“There is a bit of dirt by your jaw,” Brad answers honestly, using a knuckle to rub at the spot, “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was so dirty.”

 

“You’re always filthy,” Ray says with an easy grin. “But maybe you should shower before we eat dinner. So that you don’t accidentally eat PT crud,” he adds, and Brad gets a look in his eyes as he glances down at what Ray is wearing.

 

Brad drops his hands from where they had been framing Ray’s face as he offers, “You want to shower with me?”

 

“I’ll have to reheat the spaghetti,” Ray says with a sly grin. “But you go on ahead and rinse off, and I’ll join you after I find the lid for this fuckin’ thing,” he says, pointing over his shoulder to the pot on the stove. 

 

“You mean you don’t want to get covered in mud?” Brad laughs as he steps back, waving his hands in Ray’s face and forcing a laugh from him. “I’ll get as squeaky clean as I can before you come in, your majesty,” he says, smiling as he walks backward out of the kitchen.

 

Ray can’t stop smiling as he crouches down to reach in the back of the cabinet that he got the pot out of. He lets out a triumphant sound as he finds the lid and stands up, snapping it into place before he opens the stove and slides the pot into the stove to hopefully keep some of the heat in it as they’re preoccupied. He hears the shower turn on just as he’s filling the sauce pot that he used with water and dish soap, setting it to soak as he wets a sponge and wipes down the counters, buying himself some time before he heads back to their bedroom, hesitating outside of the bathroom door as he hears Brad singing under his breath. Ray knocks once before he enters, pulling his shirt over his head as he pushes the door closed with his bare foot. “What are you singing?” He asks as he pushes his pants down his hips, leaving them on in a pile on the floor with his shirt. 

 

“Some pop trash that I heard on the radio,” Brad answers, raising his voice to be heard over the water, “It was annoying the first time, but now I can’t get it out of my head.”

 

“That’s how pop music is now, old man,” Ray laughs as he steps into the shower, sliding the curtain back into place as he presses against Brad’s back. “Catchy fuckin’ jingles and shitty lyrics,” he says, pressing a kiss to Brad’s shoulder before the taller man turns to face him. Ray has to bite his lip to fight a laugh as he points out, “I always forget how tall you are until shit like this, look at you, your head is barely under the faucet.”

 

“Part of the reason I bought this condo is because my head actually kind of fits under the shower head,” Brad says with a shrug, leaning down to kiss Ray slow and dirty, his hands skating down Ray’s sides gently enough that he feels goosebumps rise on his skin.

 

Ray still can’t believe, sometimes, how lucky he is, and he feels it now as he’s standing under the warm spray of the shower with Brad, his own hands gripping at Brad’s shoulders hard enough that he’s sure it will bruise. “You can’t distract me from laughing at you by making out with me,” he manages to say in between kisses, drawing a laugh from Brad. 

 

“It was worth a shot,” he says as he breaks the kiss, one hand solid on Ray’s hip and the other curving around to rest on the small of his back, the two of them pressing so close that they’re both standing solidly under the spray of the water. “This is going to be a mess,” Brad says, laughing as Ray rolls his eyes, “Between my height and your inability to stand still I don’t actually know how this showering together thing will go.”

 

“I am willing to find out,” Ray says as he drags his hands down Brad’s chest, curling one hand around his cock and smiling at the breath that Brad releases, the hand at the small of his back digging in slightly and making his eyelids feel heavy. 

 

“You can’t go under while we’re in the shower,” Brad warns, and Ray blinks quickly as he snaps himself back into the here and now, his thumb brushing over the head of Brad’s cock. He’s about to say something, he’s not sure what, when Brad leans down and kisses him again, his tongue flicking against his bottom lip as Ray sighs into it. They stand there making out for a few moments before Brad pushes Ray against the back wall of the shower and drops carefully to his knees. 

 

“Uh…” Ray says, surprised because Brad isn’t the type to get on his knees to blow him, they’re usually a lot more horizontal when this happens. “Your knees are going to hurt,” he says, his voice rough as Brad frames his hips with his hands, glancing up at him beneath his eyelashes. 

 

“You really want to try and talk me out of blowing you?” Brad asks, smirking as Ray shakes his head quickly. He brushes one hand over the hair on the top of Brad’s head as he leans forward and wraps his lips around the tip of Ray’s cock. Ray can’t stop the stupid sound that catches in the back of his throat as Brad’s tongue traces the vein on the underside of his cock, and his hand tightens as best it can in Brad’s hair while the other raises to his face so that he can bite at the palm of his hand. 

 

Ray wants to close his eyes but he also wants to watch Brad, so his eyes are fluttering open and shut as he mumbles against the palm of his hand, “I’m gonna cum.”

 

“Take your hand away from your mouth, I want to hear you,” Brad orders, and Ray drops his hand to his side and chokes on a gasp. He feels stupid, is what he’s thinking as he hears the noises that are escaping his mouth, but he can’t stop himself from making them as he watches Brad hollow his cheeks as he deep throats him. 

 

“I’m— _oh my God_ ,” is all Ray manages to say as he shakes through his orgasm, Brad’s mouth going from wonderful to too much, and his fingers scratch at his scalp to get him to pull back. He does, but not before nearly making Ray’s knees give out as he gives one last, long suck. “You’re—you’re the absolute worst,” Ray pants out, causing Brad to laugh as he gets up slowly, Ray wincing in sympathy as he hears his knees crack. 

 

“I don’t think you can say that to a man that swallows,” Brad points out before he leans down and kisses Ray again, his hands coming up to frame his face. 

 

“I can say whatever I want, what are you going to do?” Ray teases as he wraps his arms around Brad’s waist, joining his hands together at the small of the other man’s back, “You’re gross and you love me.”

 

“I do love you,” Brad agrees, “But if anyone is gross in this relationship it’s definitely you.” Ray feels a swooping in his stomach, like he does any time Brad acknowledges both that they’re actually in a relationship and that he loves him, even as he sticks his tongue out, licking Brad’s cheek and laughing as he pulls away. “Like I said,” Brad says, shaking his head and stepping back and away, into the stream of the shower. 

 

“Do you want…?” Ray gestures down to where Brad is very obviously still hard.

 

Brad shakes his head. “Nah, I want to save it for later, after we eat,” he says, and Ray would laugh but he sees the look in Brad’s eye and stops himself.

 

“I uh, don’t think that’s how cocks work, but okay,” Ray says, his voice shaky as he reaches out anyway, wrapping one hand loosely around Brad’s cock and brushing his thumb over the tip. 

 

“Mind over matter,” Brad says even as his voice drops, reaching down and grabbing Ray’s wrist tight enough that he feels it in his bones. “You’ve been fairly good since I’ve been home, and you made me dinner, so you deserve to be treated right,” Brad continues as he eases Ray’s hand away from his cock, “Which means that after dinner I have something that I want to give you, after I clean the kitchen and you smoke a bowl out on the patio.”

 

Ray knows something is up because Brad _never_ tells him to smoke a bowl, but he lets it slide, smiling at the man and saying, “Whatever you say, darling.” He grabs the loofa and soaps it up, gesturing for Brad to turn around as the other man shampoos his hair, and Ray is carefully washing Brad’s back when he sees another scar that’s new, just to the top left of his God awful tattoo. “Another training accident?” He asks, pressing two fingers against the slight bump, raising an eyebrow when Brad looks over his shoulder at him.

 

“That was actually all me,” he says, looking sheepish, “I was up on a tank, showing the guys something, and I got distracted by a smell that reminded me of being back home.”

 

Ray laughs and shakes his head, pressing a kiss to Brad’s soapy shoulder. “That’s now officially the gayest thing you’ve ever said. You’re really trying to out-gay yourself while you’re home, aren’t you?” He teases as he turns Brad around by his shoulder, the taller man leaning his head back under the shower head to rinse the shampoo out of his hair as Ray loofas his front. 

 

He’s on his knees, carefully running the loofa over Brad’s calves and feet when the other man speaks, and Ray looks up enough to see that Brad’s mind over matter mentality doesn’t seem to be working. “I always forget how good you look on your knees,” Brad says, reaching a hand out and brushing the hair out from in front of Ray’s eyes, “And I might as well try and out-gay myself, though out of the two of us you’re the one going to Pride in rainbow cutoffs.”

 

“That was one time, and I was in high school,” Ray says, laughing as he stands up, holding the loofa under the spray of the water to rinse it off. “I should never have shown you the picture my friend took, I knew you were just holding that information back to make fun of me with one day,” he continues, sticking his tongue out at Brad as the other man grabs the loofa from him and hangs it from the hook on the back wall. 

 

“It’s the best picture of you to exist,” Brad says easily as the two of them step out of the shower, Ray handing over a towel and using his own to start drying off his hair. “Has Bucky seen it?” He asks as he towels of his chest before bending over to dry his feet and legs.

 

Ray laughs as he bends down to grab his briefs and tugs them on. “There’s no way I’m showing him that. Well, maybe after his fuckin’ surgery, it’s guaranteed to cheer him up,” he answers, hanging his towel up on the wall and grabbing Brad’s, doing the same for him. 

 

“When is his surgery?” Brad asks, reaching out to swat at Ray’s ass as the other man bends over to grab his pajama pants.

 

“Heeyy,” Ray says, looking over his shoulder as he tugs his pajama pants on, “Promises, promises. And his surgery is at the beginning of the year some time, Stark took December off to finalize his arm and the thing that’s gonna go on Bucky’s remaining bit, the uh…oh God, I know he said what it is…the socket! That’s what it’s fucking called, the socket.” He grins as he follows Brad out of the bathroom, the taller man grabbing a pair of shorts from his drawer of clothes. 

 

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes, old fashioned letter style because there’s definitely no way I’ll be getting internet in the middle of the goddamn desert,” Brad says as he turns to face Ray. He smiles as he reaches out and tugs Ray closer, curling one hand around his elbow and the other cradling his cheek. “I love you,” Brad says, smiling so wide that Ray wants to look away because it’s just…too much some times, the way he looks at him. 

 

“I love you too,” Ray replies, tilting his head slightly to press a kiss to Brad’s wrist, dropping his gaze away from Brad’s smile as he does. 

 

“You always do that,” Brad says, and he sounds sad enough that Ray glances back up, “You won’t look at me when I say that I love you.”

 

“It’s a thing,” Ray says, feeling uncomfortable as he tries to pull back, Brad’s hold on him tightening enough that he can’t. “I just…it sometimes feels like you love me too much, and it’s a little scary,” he answers honestly, his cheeks heating as he manages to hold Brad’s gaze. 

 

Brad makes a sound, and Ray can see his frown deepen as he does. “I love you more than I can bear sometimes,” he says, and Ray feels ridiculous when his eyes start to water, “And it’s scary for me too, but that’s not going to stop me from telling you that I love you at any chance that I get because we _don’t_ _know_ how many chances we’ll get. I’m making up for the times that I wanted to say it but couldn’t, all those times I looked over at you in the driver’s seat of the Humvee in Iraq, the desert sun making you look so fucking bright. You were the brightest part of my day back then, surrounded by fucking dirt and dead Hajis, and you’re the brightest part of my day now in this ridiculous fucking condo with a shower that I can barely fit in and your weird ass friends coming over whenever they feel like it. I love you because you get me, you’ve seen the fucking mess that I am, you’ve seen me at my worst, and you can still look at me like I hung the fucking moon. Which isn’t right, because if anyone hung the moon it was you, Josh Ray Person.” 

 

Ray sniffles and the embarrassment is deep in his bones as he feels the tears drop down his face. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, and Brad pulls him into a hard hug, his face pressing against Brad’s chest. He cries, feeling ridiculous the whole time, for a handful of minutes like that, his face hot against Brad’s chest as he shakes in his arms. “I can’t believe I’m crying,” Ray mumbles as Brad runs his fingers through his hair, somehow managing to avoid every knot. He hears a sniffle and pulls back enough to see Brad’s face, surprised to find that the taller man is watery eyed as well, “Oh God, now you’re crying.”

 

“I’m not crying,” Brad denies, even as his voice catches slightly. “My eyes are just a bit wet, is all.”

 

Ray laughs, and it’s watery as he presses his face back against Brad’s chest. “I love you,” he says, his turn to be honest as he pulls back slightly, just enough to see Brad’s face. “I think I’ve probably loved you in some way since you threw that stupid fucking radio at me and ordered me to fix it, but do you want to know the moment I really had that ‘ _oh yeah, okay, so this is love_ ’ moment?” He asks, and Brad nods his head, looking hesitant even as he does. Ray smiles at him, and brings one of his hands up to press against the scruff on Brad’s cheek, his thumb resting on Brad’s chin. “It was in Iraq, weirdly enough, right after we took Baghdad. it might have had something to do with the lack of Ripped Fuel,” he pauses, laughing at himself as he shakes his head, “But it was when they were watching that stupid fucking video and we were off on our own, just drinking and being silent, I looked over at you and couldn’t imagine my life without you in it. I wanted nothing more than to kiss your stupid fucking face in front of all those idiots just to show it off, show off how amazing you are and how amazing _we_ are and I knew you would have killed me, but I also know that you would kiss me back. Because there are a lot of things that I have been unsure of in my life, but _you_ , you are _not_ something that I have ever second guessed. _You_ , you are the light of my fucking life, and you’ve made me a better fucking person because of how good you are. I love you _so fucking much_ , Brad Colbert, and is scares the _shit_ out of me, but I wouldn’t want to feel anything less than sheer terror in your presence.” 

 

Now Brad is smiling at him, the smile that makes Ray want to look away even as he doesn’t, keeping eye contact and smiling back as he wipes under Brad’s eye with a careful thumb. “I love you, because you love me and because I know that I will never want anyone as much as I want you. If it were physically possible I would have your fucking babies, that’s how serious I am,” Ray says, and both he and Brad laugh as Ray brings his other hand up to frame Brad’s face, his fingertips pressing against his temples. 

 

“I would totally want you to have my babies,” Brad says, smiling, “Because out of the two of us you are definitely the one with the child bearing hips.” Ray laughs again, loudly this time, before he tugs Brad down for a kiss that is more of a pressing together of smiles more than anything else. “I love you so much,” he adds on, bringing his hands up to cover Ray’s hands on his face.

 

“I take back anything I’ve ever said, this is absolutely the gayest thing we’ve ever done. I think this even beats the rom-com moment we had when you got home,” Ray says, grinning.

 

“Not by much,” Brad argues, grinning back.

 

“Definitely by a lot,” Ray corrects before kissing him again. “We were crying and confessing our love for each other, that’s about as gay as we could get,” he points out, mumbling against Brad’s mouth, “Only thing gayer would have been if we were mid-fuck.”

 

“We can save that for another time,” Brad says as he pulls back slightly, bringing Ray’s hands down between them as he threads their fingers together.

 

Ray smiles and squeezes Brad’s fingers. “Let’s eat dinner, and then I’m going to smoke a bowl while you do the dishes, because you’re the best boyfriend in the world,” he says, tugging Brad in the direction of the kitchen. The two of them reheat the pasta and sit across from each other at the dining room table, upping the gayness of their whole evening by playing a rousing game of footsie under the table. Brad wins, which really means he pins Ray’s feet between his ankles and smiles at him with pasta in his mouth. 

 

“Go smoke,” Brad says, shooing Ray out of the kitchen twenty minutes later after they’ve polished off the spaghetti, “I’m going to clean, you’re going to smoke, and then I’m going to give you the gift that I bought.”

 

Ray allows himself to be pushed out into the living room, where he goes over to the set of drawers in the television stand and grabs his wooden stash box. He checks his grinder because he can’t remember if there was any left over from the last time Bucky was over, and he lets out a cheer of success when he sees that there’s at least a bowl’s worth already ground up. High him is his very best friend when it comes to situations like this, _always looking out for the home team_ , he thinks as he carefully packs his bowl, the glittery gold one that Bucky had bought him because he said it ‘ _looks like a golden snitch, dude, you can’t even deny it_ ’. He finishes packing the bowl and then puts the grinder back into the box, closing the lid but leaving it on the couch as he walks to open the patio door, sliding it open and carefully shutting it behind himself before he drops onto one of the less than comfortable chairs that Brad had bought for out here a few days after he got home. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, he had slipped it back into his pocket after they had finished eating, and sends Bucky a text that is mostly a string of exclamation marks followed by _u r right brad and i are v v super gay_. 

 

_what did u 2 do now????????…,_ Is the response that pops up on the screen as he lights his bowl, breathing in deeply and holding it as he thumbs the message open to read the rest, … _p.s. steve is v excited to spend xmas with my sister so ha in your face_. 

 

_we cried after confessing our love again and he’s doing the dishes because i made dinner and he’s gotten me a present that he’s not telling me about and he actually TOLD ME TO PACK A BOWL BECAUSE I DESERVE IT and also he blew me in the shower this is the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE,_ Ray types out quickly before he takes another drag, his lungs burning nicely as he holds the smoke in, blowing it out slowly as his phone vibrates against his thigh. 

 

_EVERY TIME I THINK U GUYS CAN’T GET GAYER YOU LITERALLY GET GAYER this is the best day of my life bravo i’m v happy that you got a shower blowjob but also does brad even fit in the shower???? also also present!!!!!!! let me know what it isssss, bro_ , Bucky replies, and Ray can almost hear Bucky’s voice in his head as he reads it. He smokes the bowl slowly, taking a few more drags while he decides what to say. 

 

Ray grins and, holding his breath carefully, finally replies to Bucky, _we are the Most Gay and hell yeah i will def let you know what it is!!! i’m hoping for a kitten!! and also if i don’t respond after this it’s because i’m having mind blowing your parents are coming to crash in our guest room in two days so we have to fuck a lot tonight sex. hugs and kisses buddy!!!_

 

“Are you almost done out here?” Brad asks as he opens the patio door, leaning against the doorjamb and smiling at Ray with that fucking smile again. 

 

Ray looks in the bowl and frowns slightly. “Yeah,” he answers, “This one is definitely done, as am I, because I forgot that this is definitely not a smoke it all on your own stash.”

 

Brad laughs and Ray can feel his eyes on him as he stands up, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he does. “Ahh, I remember a time when I was young and carefree, smoking weed and not worrying about being drug tested,” he teases Ray as he squeezes past him and back into the living room.

 

“I can’t believe that you were ever care free, you absolutely seem like the type that was deliciously uptight as a teenager,” Ray says as he bends over the back of the couch, glancing over his shoulder at Brad before he puts his pipe back into the box. He’s just about to straighten up to put the box in the cabinet when he feels Brad right behind him, his hands coming up to rest on Ray’s hips. “Why, Mister Colbert, what ever are you doing?” Ray laughs, failing to sound even the slightest bit offended as he presses back against Brad, his cock hard against Ray’s ass as his hands tighten on his hips. 

 

“I was going to give you your gift,” Brad says, and Ray can feel the weight of his words trickle down his spine as he continues, “But maybe I’ll fuck you over the couch, just like this, instead.”

 

Brad moves one of his hands from Ray’s hip to the small of his back, dragging his hand up under Ray’s shirt and pressing between his shoulder blades. “I mean,” Ray pauses as he grinds back against Brad, smiling to himself when he hears him release a breath, “I am all for fucking me over the couch, one hundred percent. In fact, there’s nothing I’d like better.”

 

“I can think there might be something that you’d like more,” Brad says, “You haven’t seen my present yet.”

 

“Unless the present is your _cock_ I really don’t care if I see it, Brad,” Ray says, looking over his shoulder and blinking at the heated look on Brad’s face. Brad steps back, his hands going up in the air in surrender as he raises an eyebrow. “No, come back,” Ray pouts as he straightens up and turns around, leaning his ass against the back of  the couch and reaching out toward Brad, his frown deepening as Brad takes a step back, quirking a smirk at him.

 

Brad takes a few more steps back and finally Ray pushes himself off of the back of the couch, closing the distance between he and Brad enough that he can grab his hand. “I really do think you’re going to like the gift,” Brad says, squeezing Ray’s fingers and leading the way into the bedroom. They stop in the middle of the bedroom floor, just at the foot of the bed, and Brad requests, “Stay here, and do me a favor and close your eyes, okay?”

 

“Well I guess,” Ray says, closing his eyes and letting his hands drop to his sides, “But I am actually really curious now, nothing gets my interest more than making me close my eyes.” He’s quiet as he stands there, his mind going quiet as he hears Brad rummaging around in what Ray is pretty sure is the closet, if his sense of direction is still what he thinks it is. 

 

“Patience is a virtue,” Brad says finally, and Ray smiles genuinely as he hears Brad’s footsteps come to a stop a few feet from him. “You can open your eyes,” And Ray does, opening his eyes slowly and his eyes are immediately drawn to what is being held in Brad’s hands. 

 

“That’s uh, that’s new,” Ray says, blinking to make sure that the padded cuffs that are currently swinging from Brad’s hands aren’t going to disappear any time soon. “I thought you weren’t into the whole tying me up thing,” he says finally, looking at Brad’s face and not finding the hesitation that he’s expecting, which had been there the first time he brought it up. 

 

Ray reaches out and grabs the cuffs, holding them in his hands as Brad clears his throat. “You wanted it, and I’m assuming you still do, but I couldn’t give it to you when you brought it up the first time,” Brad hesitates before he finishes, “The last time I tried it…it didn’t end well, which is why I was so hesitant at first. I’ve done some reading up and I feel pretty comfortable with the whole..thing.”

 

“Yeah?” Ray asks, squeezing the soft cuffs between his fingers and looking at the contrast of the black fabric against his pale hands. 

 

“Yeah,” Brad answers, and Ray feels a sharp swoop of arousal low in his stomach.

 

Ray looks up from his hands and, even as he can feel his cheeks heat, says, “You’ll tell me if it gets to be too much? I don’t want you to do something that you don’t like just because _I_ like it.”

 

“When have I ever been quiet about not liking something?” Brad asks teasingly as he reaches out to take the cuffs back from Ray.

 

“I know,” Ray says with a smile, “I’m just saying, if you end up not being cool with it after all just untie me and we can be strictly vanilla.”

 

“You’re very rarely strictly vanilla,” Brad points out and Ray laughs a little as he watches Brad squeeze the cuffs in his hands. “But I get what you’re saying, and if I need to stop I will. For now, why don’t you strip and get on the bed, face up please.”

 

Ray is smiling as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor before he pushes his pajama pants and briefs down, kicking them over to join his shirt. He climbs into their bed and sprawls across the middle, his hands resting on the pillow by his head as he asks, “Is this good enough?”

 

“Why don’t we see,” Brad says lightly as he steps up next to the head of the bed, grabbing Ray’s right hand gently and securing one of the velcro cuffs around the wrist. “Scoot down just a bit, your elbow will be at a weird angle like this,” he says after moving Ray’s hand above his head, the cuff tight but not uncomfortable around his wrist. 

 

Ray inches down slightly, just enough that his elbow is straight. “Better?” He asks, and Brad makes a noise in agreement before he walks away, down around the foot of the bed. He comes to stand by the left of the bed, grabbing Ray’s hand and repeating the process of cuffing him while making sure that the cuff is threaded between the slats on their headboard.

 

Ray’s breathing is slow and deep as he tests the resistance of the cuffs, tugging his hands away from the headboard and letting out a happy sigh as he sees that there’s not much wiggle room. “Is that good?” Brad asks, and Ray can only nod, feeling the fog slowly descending on his brain, making him feel warm and fuzzy all over. “Use your words, please,” Brad orders, and Ray shivers slightly at his tone. 

 

“‘m good,” Ray answers with a slight slur, “Best I’ve ever been.”

 

Ray opens his eyes, not sure when they closed, and looks at Brad. “You’re going under quick,” he says, reaching out and brushing the back of his fingers down Ray’s cheek. 

 

“Need it,” Ray mumbles out, tilting his head so that he can press a kiss to Brad’s fingers. 

 

Brad strokes his cheek again before he steps back, and Ray knows it’s ridiculous but he already misses the hand on his face. He lifts his head slightly to see what Brad’s up to and smiles as he watches him push his shorts down and kick them over to the pile of Ray’s clothes. “I’ll take care of you, don't worry,” Brad says as he turns and walks back to the bed, climbing up and settling down next to Ray’s hip, running a hand from his collarbones and down, until his fingers are curled loosely around his cock. 

 

Ray had already been hard, but he can feel himself get harder as he says, his tone dazed, “You always take care of me.” He can’t help the noise that escapes the back of his throat when Brad tightens his grip on his cock slightly, brushing his thumb over the tip and making his toes curl. 

 

“You deserve it,” Brad says gently, shifting on the bed so that he’s straddling one of Ray’s thighs, his cock hanging heavy between his legs.

 

“How—” Ray has to pause, taking a deep breath and feeling his eyelashes flutter as Brad changes his grip on his cock again, “How’s that mind over matter thing working?”

 

Brad laughs and shifts against him, pressing his cock against Ray’s thigh. “It’s going about as well as you would think with you all tied up beneath me,” he says, his voice rough as he takes his hand away from Ray’s cock, wrapping the same hand around his own and giving himself a couple of tugs. Ray watches this with heavily lidded eyes, and he pulls against the restraints holding his hands down because he wants to _touch_. Brad grins at him and drops his hand from his cock, shifting again so that he can reach the lube they leave on the bedside table, dropping it onto the sheets next to Ray’s hip. “I bet you’re wondering what I want to do tonight,” he teases, reaching out and tweaking one of Ray’s nipples just slightly too hard, causing Ray to hiss out a breath between his teeth. “I thought about working you open slowly, maybe eating you out again, because I know how much you like that,” Brad pauses as Ray whines and shifts under him, “But I think tonight I want you to fuck me.”

 

Ray has to blink slowly as he processes what’s just been said. “Holy—Yes, yeah, _please_ ,” he manages to choke out, his hips jerking up as Brad wraps his hand around his cock again, “We haven’t—in awhile,” he says, stuttering as he thinks back to the last time he was pressing into Brad’s ass, the day before he shipped out to fucking England. 

 

Brad grins at him as he releases his cock, adjusting again so that he is now straddling Ray’s hips properly, one knee on either side of him as he picks up the bottle of lube and gets three of his fingers slick with it. Ray isn’t sure who moans louder when Brad reaches back and presses a finger into himself, but he knows that he’s the one that swears and tugs at his restraints again. 

 

“You good?” Brad asks, his voice sounding tight as he moves his gaze up to Ray’s wrists.

 

Ray nods and shifts his hips as much as he can, feeling held down and secure enough that he can feel the floating feeling that he can’t always welcome rush over him in wave. “I…” He trails off as his eyes flutter shut, he feels Brad’s lips against his cheek and he turns towards them, capturing Brad’s lips in a kiss that he can feel in his toes. They stay like that, Brad holding himself above Ray slightly with one hand as he uses the other to prepare himself and Ray floating in a sea of too many feelings, making out for what feels like too long and not enough at the same time. Brad pulls back from the kiss and Ray frowns, opening his eyes, “What?”

 

“Gonna—I’m good,” Brad says, and it takes Ray a moment to catch up with what he’s saying, long enough that Brad is working lube onto his cock as he swears again, his cock almost throbbing as it’s coated in the cool lube. The sound that Ray makes as Brad sinks down on him sounds stupid, if he thinks about it, but the noise that Brad makes at the same times is the most beautiful thing he’s heard lately. Ray wants to move his hips but Brad is holding him down with his full weight, and he can’t get leverage because his hands are still restrained, which is making the whole situation feel more intense than he imagined it could.

 

“You’re amazing,” Ray says it reverently, blushing enough that he can feel it travel down to his chest at the way Brad looks at him, _that look_ again, the one that makes him want to simultaneously crawl into a hole and shout from the top of a mountain. By the time Brad starts moving above him he’s sunk low into the fog surrounding his mind, every touch intensified as Brad leans down and kisses him, one hand tugging harshly at his hair as the other holds his torso up enough that Ray can still breathe. 

 

“Don’t cum until I tell you to,” Brad orders, his low voice breaking through the fog in Ray’s mind enough for him to nod quickly, choking out some noise of agreement even as he feels the slow burn in his balls, the one that signals he’s close to the edge. “Be a good boy for me, okay sweetie,” he continues, pressing a kiss to Ray’s cheek as he feels his eyelids flutter again, because Brad only calls him sweetie when he’s gone as well, and Ray is so proud of himself for managing to get Brad to his level that he feels his gut tighten. 

 

“But…I…” Ray chokes out, and Brad shushes him, grinding down on his cock as he does so.

 

“You’re so good, baby, you’re making me feel so good. Your cock feels amazing, but I just want you to hold out until I tell you to, is that fair?” Brad asks as he sits up slightly, his breathing hard as he fucks himself on Ray’s cock and works one hand over his own cock, the other hand resting lightly on the base of Ray’s neck, a hint of promise. Ray really wants to say that no, that it’s not fair, he should try not cumming with a fucking hot ass guy that loves him on his cock, but he's beyond speaking so he just nods and grips the strap holding the two cuffs together tightly and hopes that Brad will press down just a little harder on his neck. He’s close to tapping out, because the visual of Brad bouncing on his cock and jerking himself off doubled with the feeling of it on his cock is nearly too much, but all he can manage is a loud moan as his eyes flutter shut. 

 

“Brad,” he mumbles, forcing his eyes back open so that he can catch Brad’s gaze. The man above him is flushed from his cheeks down to the middle of his chest, his hand on his cock, and Ray feels his heart flutter as he looks at him. “I love you so much,” he says, and he knows he sounds surprised as he does, which is ridiculous because just earlier in the night they had that moment in the bedroom. It’s Brad’s turn to moan, and his hips stutter as Ray continues, his words coming back to him all at once in an effort to put off the inevitable orgasm. “I think about this when you’re gone, how fucking tight you are around my cock, and that look on your face. The one that you always get when my cock presses into you just right,” he pauses as he watches Brad’s thumb press against the head of his cock, “But mostly I think about your cock in me, how full I feel and how good you are, you’re always so go-ood.” Ray stumbles over the last word as Brad leans down, biting at his collarbone enough that the sharp sting nearly brings him back into himself completely. 

 

“If you don’t shut up,” Brad forces out, his voice hoarse as he mumbles right against Ray’s ear, “I am going to make you.”

 

“Promises,” Ray teases, choking on air as Brad clenches around him tightly. “You’re so good to me, and I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he says, and he feels Brad begin to tremble above him slightly, “But I’m so happy that you’re mine and God, I want to do this for the rest of our lives.” He should feel ridiculous, and he might, just enough that he can feel it shimmering just below the surface, but the groan that Brad lets out against his shoulder is worth the feeling of ridiculousness. Particularly when he pulls back and looks at him with his pupils blown wide and his cheeks flushed.

 

Brad looks like he’s going to say something but it’s cut short when he tightens around Ray hard enough that he lets out a shuddering breath and cums. He’s shaking through it, and Ray again wants to touch him, to bring him down into a hug, but he pulls just this side of too hard against the restraints and the sharp twinge in his wrists is enough to force him into a shaking of his own. “I love you too,” Brad says, his hips still moving even as he drops his hand from his cock and licks his lips. He swipes two fingers through the cum on Ray’s stomach and slides those fingers into Ray’s mouth. Ray sucks on the fingers and his eyes close as Brad presses down against his tongue. “You can cum,” Brad says after a few seconds of this, and Ray really doesn’t need to be told twice as he tenses up and orgasms, his jaw dropping open enough for Brad to slip his fingers out of his mouth and down to his chest, resting his hand over Ray’s heart. 

 

“Holy shit,” Ray says after he catches his breath. “We should definitely do that again,” He continues as Brad reaches up and undoes the cuffs, rubbing his wrists gently to encourage the blood to flow back into them. 

 

“I am one hundred percent down for that,” Brad agrees as he tosses the cuffs in the general direction of the closet, shifting Ray over after he’s done so that he too can lay down on the bed. “That was probably one of your better idea,” he teases as he pulls Ray to his chest, kissing the top of his head as Ray tosses a leg over his. 

 

Ray laughs, “I do have good ideas every so often, even if it did take you like a year to realize my genius in this particular matter.” Ray is loose limbed and grinning as he settles his head on Brad’s chest and lets out a heavy sigh, still trying to catch his breath. 

 

“Do you need anything? Water?” Brad asks, and Ray shakes his head as best he can.

 

“Not right now, right now I just need to be cuddled,” Ray says honestly even though he is feeling a bit thirsty, “Maybe in like five minutes.”

 

“Whenever you want me to get up I will,” Brad promises, and Ray presses a kiss to his chest before he yawns. 

 

“I’m definitely gonna fall asleep,” Ray warns as he yawns again, his eyes watering with the strength of it, “So maybe a raincheck on that drink.”

 

Brad laughs and says something but Ray can’t make it out, already halfway to sleep. 

 

————

 

The next morning is only slightly disgusting, the two of them having fallen asleep before they could clean themselves up. Brad complains the whole time he’s tossing Ray a damp hand towel before he jumps into the shower again, Ray laughing as he wipes himself down with the towel. “Now you know how I feel most of the time!” He yells through the closed bathroom door as he finally gets out of bed, dropping the damp towel into the laundry basket as he grabs his pajama pants and shirt off of the floor, tugging them both on to fight against the chill that’s settled into the bedroom. 

 

Ray is in the kitchen pouring milk over cereal as Brad steps into the living room, dressed in his PT gear. “I’m going for a run,” Brad says as he steps into the kitchen, ducking down to press a kiss to Ray’s hair, “I’ll be back in a half hour.”

 

“You’re insane, it’s your first day off duty for real and you’re going to go for a run? How do you have the energy?” Ray asks, accepting the kiss as he shovels a spoonful of Lucky Charms into his mouth. 

 

“Can’t fall behind in my fitness just because I’m on Libo,” Brad says, and Ray laughs. 

 

“You sound like fuckin’ Rudy, man,” he teases, holding out a spoonful of cereal toward Brad.

 

Brad rolls his eyes but takes the bite, grimacing at the sugary sweet taste. “Rudy had the right idea,” he says with a shrug, “Being healthy is a good thing.”

 

“Are you going to leave me just because I eat Lucky Charms?” Ray asks, not even pretending to be serious. 

 

“There’s a whole list of reasons that I would leave you, and Lucky Charms isn’t even in the top five,” Brad laughs as he shoves his feet into his untied tennis shoes, bending down to tie them. 

 

“I absolutely believe that,” Ray says, smacking Brad’s ass as he walks past him with his bowl in hand, heading into the living room. “Also, don’t forget, I’m taking Bucky and Steve to the airport this afternoon before I go in for the late shift,” he reminds Brad as he’s walking out of the front door, getting a thumbs up in return as he drops carefully down onto the couch, flipping the TV on once he’s settled. 

 

The rest of the morning, once Brad gets back from his run, is lazy, the two of them lounging around on the couch until Ray has to get ready to take Bucky and Steve to the airport. _getting dressed now bro_ , he sends the text to both Bucky and Steve even though he’s ninety-nine percent sure that they’re probably together. “Do you really have to work?” Brad asks from where he’s still sprawled on the couch.

 

“Yes you loaf,” Ray answers, rolling his eyes as he walks out of the bedroom, pulling his hoodie down over his stomach, “And I have to take Steve and Bucky to the airport, but when I get home I’m all yours.”

 

“I’ll probably show up to bother you while you’re on shift,” Brad says, reaching out to grab Ray’s hand as he walks by the couch. Ray smiles and rolls his eyes as Brad presses a kiss to the back of his hand.

 

“If you didn’t I would be highly disappointed, especially since Bucky won’t be there to entertain me,” he says as he lets himself be pulled close enough to the couch that he can bend over and give Brad a kiss, the hand not being held coming up to cup Brad’s cheek. 

 

“I knew I was only a replacement for Bucky,” Brad teases as the kiss ends, “But seriously, tell them I said to be safe and not do anything stupid while they’re in Jersey.”

 

Ray straightens up and shakes Brad’s hand free. “Lose an arm and I wouldn’t be able to tell you two apart,” he teases, smiling as Brad rolls his eyes. “I’ll tell them not to do anything that I wouldn’t do,” he says as he grabs his keys from the hook by the door, tapping his back pocket to make sure he grabbed his wallet as he shoves his feet into the Vans by the door. 

 

“That leaves a lot of wiggle room,” Brad says as Ray opens the door, earning himself a nice view of Ray’s middle finger as he continues, “I love you!”

 

“I love you too,” Ray says back, glancing over his shoulder with a wave as he exits the condo, making sure the door is locked behind himself before he treks down the stairs and to his car. 

 

The drive to Bucky’s apartment is short, long enough to listen to one full song on the CD he’s got blasting in his car, and he texts Bucky when he parks in his usual spot, _i’m here do u guys need help or can u get it yourself??????_

 

_come help plz Steve packed like 2 suitcases???? why????_ Bucky texts back, and Ray laughs as he turns the car off, getting out and making sure the doors are unlocked before he heads over to the door for Bucky’s apartment. 

 

“Sup nerds,” he says as he flings the door open, closing it behind him gently as he steps into the living room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> airports suck

Bucky hasn’t been this stressed in a while, if he was more dramatic he’d say he hadn’t been this stressed since he _lost his arm_ , but he’s trying to keep it together as he shoves one last pair of shoes in his suitcase. “I’m finishing up packing in here,” Bucky says loud enough that he’s sure Ray can hear him in the living room, and he apparently can because the next moment sees his walking into the bedroom like he owns the place. 

 

“Where’s Steve?” He asks, flopping on the bed next to Bucky’s suitcase. 

 

“He had to run back over to his place real quick, he forgot to make a list of things for Natasha to do while he’s gone, and he also left his toothbrush over there? I wasn’t really listening, but he texted me a few minutes ago saying he was almost back so we won’t be too behind schedule,” Bucky answers as he struggles with the zipper on his suitcase. 

 

He waves off Ray’s offer for help as he lays his torso across the suitcase, managing to zip it closed with a triumphant sound. “He does know that you guys are going to Jersey, right? Not some island in the middle of nowhere?” Ray laughs from his spot on the bed, and instead of answering him Bucky rolls off of the suitcase and lands squarely on Ray. 

 

“I’m nervous,” Bucky says against Ray’s shoulder, and Ray wiggles enough to get an arm free and rubs his back.

 

“Steve could charm the pants off a nun, buddy, I don’t think you have to worry about your family liking him,” Ray says, trying to be comforting but only managing in making Bucky’s stomach flip.

 

“It’s not that it’s just…” Bucky hesitates, rolling off of Ray and sitting up on the edge of the bed, leaning against the other man’s shoulder when he does the same. He continues, “It’s that taking him to meet my family is a Big Step, and what if this big step is the one that makes him realize that I’m a mistake because like, I’ll take him to meet my family but I won’t suck his dick?”

 

Ray lets out an angry noise. “Has Steve said something like that? Because I don’t know if I can fight him but I know for sure that Brad can, and Brad loves you so he’d totally beat the shit out of Steve for you,” he says, and Bucky pats his knee with a laugh.

 

“Brad and Steve had a weird bonding bro date over Aquaman, so I don’t think he’d beat him up. And anyway, Steve hasn’t said anything like that it’s just…I think like that sometimes. I know it’s not fair of me to not want to have sex with him especially because I mean, you’ve seen him, right? He’s amazing and absolutely deserves someone that wants him in all the ways he deserves,” Bucky says, his shoulders feeling lighter as he speaks his truth. 

 

“You’re more than literally anyone deserves,” Ray says, his tone as serious as Bucky has ever heard it, “You’re too cool and funny and good looking to be worried about not wanting to put out because like? There’s so much more to intimacy than shoving a cock or fingers in places and humping things.”

 

Bucky laughs so hard that he covers his mouth, his head tilted back. “You’re better at this consoling the asexual thing than I thought you’d be as someone that loves sex like air,” he says after a few moments of laughter, wiping under his eyes as he hears the front door to the apartment open. 

 

“Bucky, I’m back,” Steve says from the living room, and Ray laughs as Bucky’s cheeks flush lightly. 

 

“Hey homes, you do know that you have a phone that can text Natasha the directions for whatever shit you needed to leave her a note for, right? And I’m sure they have toothbrushes in New Jersey,” Ray snorts as Steve walks into the room, shaking his head as he sees the two of them leaning against each other on the bed. 

 

“It was stuff that I didn’t want to text her,” Steve says with a shrug, “And I know they have toothbrushes in New Jersey but they don’t have _my_ toothbrush in New Jersey.”

 

“That’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Ray teases as he stands up, “Now, what’s this I hear about you having two suitcases? You do know you’re only going to be gone for a week, right?”

 

Steve rolls his eyes and walks out of the bedroom, Bucky and Ray following closely behind. Bucky tries not to make a noise as he nearly drops his suitcase on his foot. “It’s cold. I packed winter clothes, and unlike some people I know how to pack for winter,” Steve says with a smirk in Ray’s direction. 

 

“Are you mocking me for having never seen snow before?” Ray asks, feigning shock. “I think he’s making fun of me for never having seen snow before,” he repeats, turning to look at Bucky with a hand over his mouth.

 

“It _is_ sad that you’re a grown man and you’ve never seen snow before,” Bucky points out, laughing as he drags his suitcase into the entryway and drops it next to Steve’s bags. 

 

“I would have gotten that for you,” Steve says quietly to Bucky, touching his elbow as he does.

 

Bucky waves Steve off with a smile as Ray says, “I love myself too much to want to freeze my balls off, buddy.” 

 

Steve lets out a loud laugh and grabs one of his bags and Bucky’s bag, leaving his second bag for Ray. “Really,” Bucky complains, waving his hand in the air, “I can carry my own bag, guys.”

 

“No need to when we’ve got four arms between us and are perfectly capable,” Ray says, elbowing Bucky out of the doorway to the outside, he and Steve carrying the bags down to his car as Bucky stands in the doorway silently fuming. 

 

“I really could have done that myself,” Bucky complains as Steve and Ray come back up the walkway, “It’s not that much trouble for me to shove a suitcase in the back seat. 

 

“Just think of it as me hitting you back for the time you picked me and my luggage up from McClellan after that rousing coming out party that I didn’t know I was going to be a part of a few months back,” Ray says, and Bucky snorts and shakes his head in amusement. 

 

“That’s what I was considering the ride to the airport being, so now I have to come up with another thing for that to be for,” Bucky complains easily, “Now I’ll feel like I owe you.”

 

“How about we just say that it’s for not laughing hysterically at me when you found out that I cried during the gayest thing I have ever been a part of,” Ray says, and Bucky chokes down a laugh because he’s thinking of how weird that must have been for Ray, the guy that oozes hyperactivity and good cheer like it’s the fucking plague. 

 

Bucky nods along as Steve looks confused. “That’s good enough for me, though now I really want to laugh at you,” he says as he double checks his pocket for his phone and keys, looking over at the kitchen counter to make sure that he’s grabbed his phone charger. “We really should get going though, our flight lifts off in like two hours,” he says, looking over at Steve and Ray and shimmying his shoulders a little as they nod in agreement. 

 

Bucky locks the door behind him as the three of them exit the apartment. “Everyone got everything they need?” Ray asks as they’re heading to the car.

 

“All good,” Steve and Bucky say nearly as one, laughing after they’re done answering. “I call shotgun,” Steve calls as they walk up to the car, and Bucky would be annoyed but he’s also surprised enough that Steve would call shotgun on him to not argue. 

 

He climbs into the back seat and grimaces at the tight fit, “Can you scoot up a bit?” Bucky asks after Steve has gotten into the front seat.

 

“If you were anyone else I would say hell no, but since it’s you and you totally let me make out with you I’ll do it, just for you,” Steve answers, Bucky blushing as Ray opens the driver's side door and climbs into the car. Steve does scoot the seat up enough that Bucky doesn’t feel like he’s eating his knees anymore, which is a feat in and of itself in a car this small. 

 

“When are you going to get a bigger fucking car, dude?” Bucky asks Ray as he turns the car on, turning the music down to a tolerable level as he does. 

 

“Well I’m sorry diva, but I’m still not used to having so many friends that I need to have more than one seat in my car,” Ray answers as he backs out of the spot he was parked in, “And also, I am saving up for one.” 

 

Bucky grins as the song that starts as Ray pulls out of the complex starts, and he begins to sing along quietly in the back seat, bobbing his head along to the beat. “Good music choice today,” he says to Ray, and that’s apparently enough to get Ray to turn it up loud and sing along as well, his and Bucky’s voices meshing well together, but not with the song. 

 

“Who is this?” Steve has to nearly yell just to be heard, and Bucky reaches forward to touch his shoulder and get his attention.

 

“Mindless Self Indulgence,” Bucky answers, grinning at the overwhelmed look on Steve’s face, “They’re not for everyone, maybe your Navy SEAL sensibilities are more delicate than us Marines.” Steve looks like he wants to argue, but he also flinches as he listens to the lyrics of the song playing, the word faggot being used very loosely. 

 

“It’s…a lot,” Steve says eventually, and Ray and Bucky laugh as Ray turns the volume down slightly, the two of them still singing. Bucky is enjoying the calm before his anxiety storm, which he knows will strike as soon as they’re stepping foot in the airport, but for now he’s got his head tilted back against the headrest and he’s with his favorite people so he’s the happiest that he can manage to be. The ride to the airport is shorter than he had hoped, and by the time they’re pulling the luggage out of the trunk, and his carry on out of the back seat, he’s shaking slightly and his heart is beating a million miles a minute. 

 

Ray looks at Bucky as he's adjusting the strap on his carry on. “Homes, you good?” Ray asks, raising an eyebrow as Bucky fumbles with the strap slightly before he gives up and slings it over his shoulder. 

 

“Yeah I’m—I’ll be alright,” Bucky answers as honestly as he can while his hands are shaking. Steve touches the shoulder his bag isn’t slung over gently and tilts his head slightly. “I’ll be fine,” he repeats, just for Steve, and he can hear Ray fake gagging in front of them. 

 

“You guys are disgusting,” Ray teases as he hands over Bucky's suitcase. “But also I am kind of in love with this whole thing you’ve got going on,” he pauses to wave his hand between them, “So keep doing you, dawg.”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes and takes his suitcase from Ray. “Natasha is picking us up when we come home,” he reminds Ray as the other man waves it off, “And I expect to meet that Nate dude that you’re always talking about, he comes in the day before we do, doesn’t he?”

 

“Yup, you two come back the twenty-seventh and he comes in the twenty-sixth at like fucking midnight because he’s ridiculous and would rather take a red-eye. I work the twenty-seventh but Natasha has threatened me with death if I don’t bring, her words, the _mysterious Nate_ by so he’ll probably be hanging out in the shop while I’m on shift if you guys just want to drop by after you take your shit home,” Ray says, and Bucky is glad that he decided to park in short term parking as opposed to passenger drop off because Bucky can only imagine the looks that they’d be getting from security if they had done this quick catching up down at the drop off point. 

 

Bucky smiles and shrugs. “I mean, it depends on how draining my family decides to be this week, but I’ll definitely drop by your apartment that night if I don’t get to the shop. I have to wish Brad a Happy Hanukkah anyway,” he replies as Ray pulls him into a hug that would be annoying if it were anyone other than Ray. 

 

“I do too actually, I got him a present. It was meant for Christmas because I’m shitty and forgot about the Hanukkah thing,” Steve says, and Bucky feels one-upped slightly even as Ray laughs against his shoulder. 

 

“Of course you did,” Ray says as he pulls back from Bucky, turning to give Steve a hug as well.

 

“It’s nothing big, I just saw it and thought he’d like it,” Steve says, and Bucky can tell that he’s slightly embarrassed as his cheeks flush. 

 

“I didn’t get Brad anything because I have no idea what he likes other than you, and I can’t give him that since he already has you. I did get you something for Christmas though, which Sam has and is going to give you when he drops by the shop Christmas morning,” Bucky says as Ray and Steve break their hug. 

 

“Did you not trust me to wait until Christmas morning to open it?” 

 

“I absolutely did not,” Bucky answers with a laugh, “I figured you’d pull the ‘well we’re celebrating Hanukkah so I figured I’d open it on the first day of that’ because I know you too well to think you have the self restraint to wait to open a gift until Christmas.”

 

Ray makes a face even as he says, “Honestly you’re probably right.”

 

“He’s absolutely right,” Steve teases as Ray frowns, “We should really get going though, I made us a little late by having to run back to my apartment.”

 

“By like five minutes,” Bucky says, waving off his concern as he adjusts his grip on his suitcase.

 

“Yeah, yeah, go be gay in the sky now,” Ray laughs and gives Bucky one final hug before he gets back in the car, rolling the window down after he’s started it to say, “Be safe, text me when you land, love you.”

 

“Love you too,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes even as he smiles, “I’ll definitely text you when we land.”

 

“And if he forgets, I will,” Steve says as he grabs the handles on his suitcases, tugging them up so that he can roll both of them behind them as they walk. 

 

They walk out of the parking structure and into the airport, Bucky fighting against the urge to turn back and go to the car with every step. They make it to the counter to check in and check their bags with little trouble, only having to stand in line for fifteen minutes, which helps the part of his brains screaming that they’re going to miss their flight to shut up. It _doesn’t_ help the part of his brain that hates airports to shut up and if anything that part gets louder after they’ve checked their bags and are making their way to the TSA checkpoint. “I uh, I don’t like airports,” Bucky admits as they’re standing in the long security line, which prompts Steve to reach out and wrap his hand loosely around Bucky’s wrist as he continues, “Or flying. But mostly it’s the airport.”

 

“Too many people?” Steve asks as they take a few steps forward.

 

“Too many people and too many unknown variables,” Bucky answers, frowning slightly. “It also doesn’t help that my anxiety is already through the roof because I’ve never taken anyone to meet my family before,” he says, and he can feel his cheeks heat as he looks up at Steve from under his eyelashes. 

 

Steve has a goofy smile on his face as he says, “Well, I’m honored that I’m the one you decided to take home, then.” 

 

There’s a noise behind them and Bucky thinks it might just be a laugh at something that he missed but then the woman behind them says, in a tone that Bucky didn’t know existed outside of movies, “Homosexuality is a sin, and you fags are going to burn in hell.”

 

Bucky looks at Steve, blinking in disbelief. “Uhh…” He says quietly, trailing off as he doesn’t actually know _what to say._

 

Steve apparently does, because he turns to face the woman that spoke head on, and Bucky glances over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of a woman that looks like she could just be any other woman on the street. “Judge not, that ye be not judged,” he says, and Bucky hasn’t ever seen Steve look so angry, “Also known as, keep your nose out of other people’s business you wretched bitch. Because I don’t remember anyone asking you what your opinion was on how my boyfriend and I show affection. Sweetie, did you ask her?” Steve glances at Bucky, who is fighting back a grin as he shakes his head, baffled that Steve is standing up for their relationship. 

 

“I really don’t think I did,” he replies as he finally turns around to face the woman, catching the moment that she realizes that he’s only got one arm. 

 

Steve must see it too because he says, “Oh, and before you start judging people, why don't you think about the people that fought hard for this country so that you can have your bigoted thoughts that you apparently feel so comfortable spewing in public.”

 

“There’s no fags in the military so I don’t see what that argument has to do with anything,” the woman says, and Bucky isn’t surprised to hear the mumble of people around them pick up slightly. 

 

Steve snorts out a laugh. “So you really are as dumb as your bigoted spewing makes you seem. There’s fags everywhere, they just avoid coming out to people like you because this kind of thing is more common than you would think. So why don’t you go back to coddling your shitty views in the cesspool of your uneducated brain, and keep your thoughts to yourself before you piss off a former Marine and a former SEAL and we have to deal with you appropriately,” he says, his jaw clenching enough that Bucky thinks it looks painful. 

 

He reaches out and grabs Steve’s hand, turning back to face the front of the line and urging the other man to do the same. “Was that a threat?” The woman behind them says after a few moments of what Bucky assumes was mouth dropping disbelief.

 

“It wasn’t a threat,” Steve denies, glancing back over his shoulder and Bucky squeezes his hand tightly, “It was a promise.”

 

Bucky has to bite his lip to stop from laughing as the pair of women in front of them burst into giggles. They turn around to look at Bucky and Steve and smile widely as the brunette speak, “That was the best comeback I’ve ever heard, and this one has a rolodex of some good ones.” She nods to the blonde next to her, whose grin grows. 

 

“Thank you for your service, and also for serving that homophobic bitch what she had coming,” the blonde says, and it’s the only time that Bucky hasn’t rolled his eyes at someone thanking him for his service. 

 

“People like that need to be put down a peg or two into their rightful place,” Steve says easily, shrugging as Bucky hears the woman behind them mumble something, but she’s apparently smart enough now to not say it loud enough for them to hear more than the muttering. 

 

“Well, we appreciate it,” The brunette says, reaching down to squeeze the blonde’s hand gently, and Bucky is struck by the way they look at each other. It’s the same way that Brad and Ray look at each other, and the same way that Steve looks at him when he thinks he’s not looking. Bucky is anxious again, but this time it has more to do with how gently Steve is holding his hand than it does the people around them, his heart beating fast as he glances a Steve, who’s looking at him fondly. 

 

“So where are you off to?” Steve asks kindly, and it spurs the four of them into chatting in line for the rest of the security check, only stopping their conversation as they are split up to go through different metal detectors. 

 

When Bucky gets up to the metal detector he takes out the medical card he has tucked behind his driver’s license. “I have metal pins in my jaw, and a metal plate at my sternum,” he tells the TSA agent as he hands the card over to the woman on the other side of the metal detector who narrows her eyes at him. 

 

“Anywhere else?” She asks as she grabs the security wand from the table, waving him through the metal detector and raising an eyebrow when it goes off. 

 

“Nope,” Bucky answers honestly, patient as the woman passes the wand over his whole body a few times, only going off at his sternum and jaw, just like he had warned it would. He glances over where he knows Steve is, and is surprised to see him getting the wand treatment as well. Bucky is reminded suddenly that Steve has never mentioned _why_ he’s not in the military anymore, he had always just assumed that it was because he had begun to disagree with the war but now he’s wondering if it’s something more serious than a moral disagreement. He files it away to ask about later, maybe if he finishes reading his book on the plane he’ll get the nerve, though he doubts that very much. 

 

“You’re clear, have a good trip,” the TSA agent says, and Bucky smiles at her widely as he puts the card back into his wallet, grabbing it and his shoes from the bucket he placed them in, and his carry on out of the second bucket. 

 

“Thank you, hope you have a good day,” Bucky says as he drops his shoes on the ground, stuffing his feet into them as he shoulders his bag. He nods to the TSA agent and makes his way to the area with all of the benches, coming to a stop next to the bench that Steve is sitting on, tying his shoes. 

 

Steve looks up at Bucky and smiles a soft smile that makes Bucky want to protect him forever. “So, are you gonna ask?” He asks as he finishes up tying his left shoe before he stands up and grabs Bucky’s carry on from him, slinging it over his shoulder as Bucky rolls his eyes. 

 

“I mean, I was thinking about asking on the plane if I finished my book, but I guess if you’re looking to tell me now…” Bucky trails off and nudges Steve with his elbow as they begin making their way through the airport, looking for their gate. 

 

Steve waits until they’re passing by the only coffee shop in the airport, a Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf that Bucky is sure has seen better days, to start talking. “It was a few weeks after you were uh, well, after that,” he says, waving in the general direction of Bucky’s arm, “And my squad and I were on a mission that was pretty much guaranteed to go south as soon as we started. Things happened and I ended up with a metal plate in my hip and some pins in my right knee. Visiting you wasn’t the _only_ reason I was in Germany.” Bucky reaches out and grabs Steve’s hand, intertwining their fingers as they continue their walk through the airport. 

 

“I’m happy that you decided to tell me,” Bucky says finally, smiling over at Steve, “You didn’t need to.”

 

“But I wanted to,” Steve says, smiling back and squeezing his fingers gently. “I know your big bad, and now you know mine,” he looks sheepish as he finishes his sentence, shifting Bucky’s bag on his shoulder.

 

“Aren’t we a messy pair,” Bucky says teasingly swinging their joined hands between them slightly before he tugs them to the right, seeing their gate number glowing above the heads of the crowd. 

 

The wait to board the plane is shorter than Bucky was expecting, because getting through security took a hell of a lot longer than he had been counting on. He's nervous as they board the plane, and nervous as they’re in the air, but by the time they’re landing in Newark he’s lost the fine shroud of anxious nerves that had been surrounding him the entire flight. 

 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Steve asks through a yawn, and Bucky is jealous of the fact that he had been able to fall asleep nearly as soon as they took off and stay asleep the entire flight. He was so jealous that he actually elbowed Steve harder than necessary when they had landed, giving him the time they were taxiing down the runway to wake up. 

 

“You were literally asleep the whole time, how would you know?” Bucky laughs as Steve yawns again. He cracks his neck and tries not to groan, the low thrum of pain working to make him more tired than he already was because bending over his book and using a travel flashlight to read was not the smartest position for him to stay in for nearly six hours. 

 

“If I could sleep it must not have been that bad,” Steve says jokingly, accepting the smack that Bucky aims at his arm with a laugh. 

 

Bucky shakes his head and, not for the first time, really wants to kiss Steve’s stupidly smiling face. He doesn’t and instead says, “You SEALs can sleep anywhere, don’t pretend like you can’t. I’ve seen you standing up asleep against the ovens in the kitchen.”

 

Steve grins at him as the taxiing comes to a stop and the seatbelt light goes off. “Are you going to call your sister now?” Steve asks as he watches Bucky wiggle his cell phone out of his pocket.

 

“I guarantee that she’s already waiting at baggage claim but just for you I will,” Bucky says as Steve reaches over and undoes his seatbelt for him. He pulls Rebecca’s number up in his phone and hits the ‘call’ button as he crosses his eyes at Steve. “Hey Beck, Steve wanted me to call you to let you know that we were pretty close to getting off the plane,” he says when Rebecca answers the phone, sounding much too chipper for it to be midnight. 

 

“Well tell Steve that I’ve been sitting in baggage claim for almost an hour just in case you guys landed early,” Rebecca says, and Bucky can almost hear the joy in her voice. 

 

“She’s been in baggage claim for an hour,” Bucky says to Steve, causing him to laugh. “We'll see you in a few minutes, Becks,” he says before he hangs up, shoving his phone back into his pocket as he stands up, crouching slightly to avoid hitting his head on the overhead compartments. 

 

Steve lightly touches the small of his back, a gentle touch that Bucky feels down to his toes. “All I got from that is that your sister is exactly like you,” he teases lightly, “Do you want me to carry your carry on for you?” 

 

“I would say no,” Bucky says, pausing with a sigh, “But my shoulder is actually killing me so I’d be an idiot to turn down the offer. I’ll carry it once we get our luggage though, because some idiot packed two bags for a five day trip.”

 

“Winter clothes!” Steve defends himself as he stands up as well, grabbing the bag from under the seat in front of where Bucky was sitting and shouldering it even as he ducks to avoid hitting his head. “Did you bring anything for your shoulder?” He asks, concern lacing his tone as he wraps his fingers around Bucky’s wrist lightly, smiling at him. 

 

Bucky smiles his own small, soft smile, curling his fingers up to brush against what he can reach of Steve’s fingertips. “I always do, I just didn’t want to take it thousands of feet up in the air,” he answers honestly as he scrunches up his face, “I also might have packed them in my checked bag instead of my carry on like I meant to.”

 

“Smooth move, Buck,” Steve says as the two of them shuffle into the plane aisle, Bucky’s heart beating fast as the crowd gets tighter the closer they get to the door, the only thing stopping him from freaking out is Steve’s solid figure behind him, his hands sitting low on Bucky’s hips as they shuffle out of the plane and into the jet bridge. 

 

“I try,” Bucky says with a quick grin as they separate in the jet bridge, walking side-by-side as opposed to single file. “Also, maybe prepare yourself for Rebecca she can be…a bit much. Very much like Ray actually,” he warns. 

 

"I don’t think anyone is like Ray,” Steve laughs as they make their way into the airport from the jet bridge, Steve grabbing Bucky’s hand and tugging him in the direction of the signs for baggage claim. 

 

“You’d be surprised,” Bucky says again, warning, because he doesn’t want Steve to be taken by surprise by the juxtaposition between he and his sister. “Rebecca is the family gossip, and with that comes the mouth of a sailor,” he continues as they ride down the escalator and into baggage claim. They’re walking through baggage claim, toward the sign that says their flight, when Bucky hears a loud scream. “That would be Rebecca,” he says, turning his head to look in the direction the sound came from.

 

“James Buchanan Barnes, you son of a bitch!” Rebecca yells as she runs into him, smothering his face in kisses as she hugs him tightly.

 

“You’re the worst,” Bucky groans as he lets himself be manhandled. 

 

Rebecca pulls away from the hug and spots Steve, tugging him into a hug as Bucky catches his breath. “You must be the asshole that makes my brother smile, I’m Rebecca,” she says as she pulls him down by the back of his neck, smacking a kiss on his cheek as she lets him out of her grasp. 

 

“You should really ask people if they want to be touched before you touch them,” Bucky reminds as he watches Steve’s face turn amused at the affection. 

 

“I’m Steve,” he says, smiling at the shorter woman, who looks enough like Bucky that it’s hard not to smile at her. “And your brother makes me smile too, so it’s all good,” he continues, smiling over at Bucky as he blushes. 

 

“Shut up,” Bucky says, smiling and covering his mouth with his hand as he does, “We need to go get our bags.”

 

“Well, let’s go find that shit then,” Rebecca says, threading her arm through Steve and Bucky’s and letting them lead the way toward the baggage claim carousel that’s for their flight. 

 

“Steve brought two suitcases because _winter_ ,” Bucky half whispers, causing Rebecca to laugh out loud.

 

Steve looks over at the two and frowns exaggeratedly. “It is cold! It’s literally snowing outside right now,” he argues as they step up next to the baggage carousel for their plane.

 

Rebecca and Bucky share a look. “Where are you from?” Rebecca asks, and it makes Bucky laugh.

 

“He _says_ he’s from Brooklyn,” Bucky answers for Steve, grinning at him, “But I don’t think I believe it since he’s brought a _parka_ with him to _Jersey_ of all places.”

 

Steve huffs and separates from Rebecca, crossing his arms over his chest. “You two are very mean to me,” he says, and Bucky can tell he’s trying to sound tough even as he fights back a smile as he catches Bucky’s eye. “I did grow up in Brooklyn I just…I’ve never really like the cold,” he explains, “It’s the main reason I stayed put in California even after I left the Navy.”

 

“The SEALs,” Bucky corrects, shaking his head at Rebecca, “He downplays his service when he’s trying to be modest, which is literally ninety-nine percent of the time.” He sees the look Rebecca gives him and he nods his head slightly, having just given her enough information that he knows she can put two and two together to make four.

 

“You’re the one that saved James,” she says, turning quickly to look at Steve, “ _You’re the one_.”

 

Steve’s cheeks flush and he looks uncomfortable, Bucky almost feels bad for him but it’s better to do this now in public where Rebecca is less likely to lose her mind than to do this in the privacy of her home. “It was…a team effort, I just got him to the helicopter,” he says, and Bucky reaches out, touching his shoulder slightly as the carousel shakes to life, the suitcases beginning to spill out on the other side of the carousel. 

 

He carefully takes his carry on off of Steve’s shoulder, slipping it over his head to hang across his body as Rebecca finally does more than just stare at Steve. She’s hugging him again, and this time even Bucky can tell it’s probably painful as he glances at the two of them, his face aching from how wide he’s smiling at his sister and his boyfriend getting along. Even if she does seem to be sniffling against Steve’s chest at the moment. “Becks, as touching as this is, I can see our bags coming up and as I only have one arm there’s no way I can grab all three the first time around,” he says over his shoulder at them as he spots their bags rotating toward them. 

 

“Right, sorry,” Rebecca says, sounding stuffy, and Bucky turns to look at her again, seeing her wipe at her eyes. “Gotta help the lame duck,” she laughs, tossing an arm across Bucky’s shoulders as she smiles at him, settling against his left side. Bucky looks back to check on Steve and sees him wiping at his eyes as well, putting on one of the most fake smiles Bucky’s ever seen on him as he steps up next to the two of them. 

 

Bucky doesn’t say anything instead, reaching out to squeeze Steve’s hand gently and giving him a small smile as he looks over. Steve leans over and, surprising Bucky, kisses him straight on the mouth, the hand not holding Bucky’s cradling the side of his face. “You’re wonderful,” he says quietly, and his voice sounds rough as Bucky feels Rebecca drop her arm from his shoulders. 

 

“No, you are,” Bucky responds, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to the palm of Steve’s hand. “Now be the most wonderful person ever and grab our bags,” he says lightly, breaking eye contact as he glances over Steve’s shoulder to track the progress of their bags, “They’re coming up in a handful of seconds.”

 

Steve smiles, a real smile this time, and scoots back from Bucky, turning to wait for their bags. “You’re in love with him, James,” Rebecca says quietly, and Bucky automatically glances at Steve to see if he’s heard, and he doesn’t seem to have if his non-reaction is to be judged. “It’s okay,” Rebecca says soothingly, putting her hand on his left shoulder carefully, and Bucky is sure that this is the first time she’s touched his injury, “He’s in love with you too.”

 

Bucky glances at Steve, watching as he somehow manages to grab all three suitcases with barely a struggle. “Shut up,” he mumbles and rolls his eyes, feeling himself blush slightly as Steve glances back at them, looking proud of himself. 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky takes Steve home to meet his sister for Christmas

The next morning is a late one, Bucky doesn’t wake up until sometime past noon and he’s alone in his sister’s guest room, sprawled across the bed like a three armed star-fish. He’s still blinking heavily, debating on falling back asleep, when the bedroom door opens quietly, Steve poking his head into the room 

 

“G’morning,” Bucky says after a moment, clearing his throat and rolling onto his side. 

 

“Afternoon,” Steve corrects, smiling as he steps into the room, closing the door behind himself as he does. 

 

“Tomayto, tomahto,” Bucky grumbles, reaching his hand out toward Steve and tugging him down onto the bed with him when he’s close enough. 

 

Steve laughs and settles on top of Bucky, his arms bracketing his head as he does. “Your niece is adorable, and your sister’s husband is kind of a dick,” he says before he leans down and presses his lips to Bucky’s cheek, leaving a lingering kiss. 

 

“She is, and he is as well,” Bucky agrees, his eyelids feeling heavy as Steve’s body heat seeps into him. “You’re very warm,” He continues, and is disappointed when he feels Steve roll off of him and onto the bed next to him. 

 

“I told your sister I would make dinner tonight,” Steve says, and that’s enough to make Bucky open his eyes and glance over at him.

 

“You’re going to make dinner?” Bucky asks, sounding as shocked as he feels, “You, the man that swears he doesn’t know how to make food other than desserts, are going to make dinner.”

 

“And dessert,” Steve says, sounding sheepish enough to draw a laugh from Bucky.

 

“So ordering pizza and making an amazing four star dessert?” Bucky teases, rolling onto his side to look at Steve properly.

 

“Little kids shouldn’t eat too much pizza,” Steve says as he rolls onto his side as well, inches from Bucky’s face. 

 

Bucky blushes at the look on Steve’s face. “I should brush my teeth,” Bucky mumbles, scooting forward to press his face against Steve’s shoulder, “And put on real pants.”

 

Bucky can hear the snark in Steve’s voice as he says, “When I left you this morning you had on pants, when did the depantsing happen?”

 

“I got hot,” Bucky mumbles, rolling back onto his back as he kicks the sheets down slightly, showing off the barest hint of hipbone as he does, “And I figured taking my pants off was a safer bet than taking my shirt off in case Emma decided to stumble in here in all her infant glory.” Steve laughs at him and touches his fingers to the exposed hipbone carefully, “Jesus, Steve, your hands are cold.”

 

“They are,” Steve laughs as Bucky scoots away, trying to escape the cold. 

 

“I hate you,” Bucky says, finally sitting up and letting the sheets pool around his waist as he turns to face Steve, who’s still lying on his side facing him.

 

“You do not,” he says, grinning as he reaches out and shoves his hands under Bucky’s shirt, getting a squeak in protest. 

 

“I do actually,” Bucky says even as he smiles back at Steve, grabbing one of his hands with his and bringing it up to his face, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand, “I hate you so much.”

 

“Yeah well, I hate you too then,” Steve smiles as he sits up as well, pushing the covers down as he does and faking a shocked gasp. “I thought you said you weren’t wearing pants,” He says, faking disappointment as Bucky lets out a loud laugh. 

 

“I lied,” he says finally, tugging at the flannel of his pajama pants, “I did get hot but I got cold like five minutes later so I put them back on.” Bucky swings his legs out of the bed and sits on the edge, leaning back into Steve when he scoots up behind him. “I haven’t seen Emma in person since I uh, had my accident,” he says finally, his voice giving away his nerves enough that Steve presses a soft kiss to the side of his neck. 

 

“She kept asking all morning where Uncle Bucky was, it was disgustingly adorable,” Steve says quietly, adjusting his position so that his legs are splayed on either side of Bucky and his arms are wrapped around his middle from behind. “She loves you so much that Rebecca practically had to tie her down to stop her from waking you up, and she only let me out of her sights when I told her I was coming to wake you up,” he continues, squeezing Bucky slightly as he shakes with nerves. 

 

“You’re too kind,” Bucky mumbles, leaning into Steve’s arms, “It’s just a little…nerve-wracking is all, she’s so little and I’m so lopsided.”

 

“You’re perfect,” Steve says, “I wish you could see you how _I_ see you.”

 

“You look at me like I created the stand mixer,” Bucky says, laughing, “I don’t think I’ll ever see myself like that.”

 

Steve laughs and crawls out from behind him, standing up in front of Bucky and holding out his hands. “That’s a pretty great analogy,” Steve says as Bucky places a hand in his, letting himself be pulled up, “Because that is how I feel about you.” He’s blushing as he speaks, and Bucky can’t help but smile and squeeze his hand tightly. 

 

“I can’t stand you,” Bucky says even as he leans in, kissing Steve’s cheek lightly before he drops his hand, walking out of the bedroom with a smile as he heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth and take a piss. By the time he’s done in the bathroom he’s gotten over his nerves enough that he’s not shaking, but he’s still concerned about what the look on Emma’s face will be when she sees him. 

 

Turns out he didn’t need to be concerned because as soon as he steps into the living room he's nearly toppled over by two feet of red headed terror smacking into his legs. “Unc'a Bucky!” Emma yells so loudly that Bucky is surprised the glasses on the table haven’t shattered. 

 

“Hey Emma,” he says, crouching down to get on her level, “How are you doing?”

 

He’s saddened by how surprised he feels at the strong hug that she gives him, her little arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “Good! You’re here!” She says, still loud but not as shrill against his shoulder. 

 

“I am here, and Santa is coming later this week, isn’t he?” He asks, taking a risk and standing up with her still gripping him, securing his right arm under her diapered butt as he straightens up. He glances at Steve and his knees nearly buckle at the look in his eyes, Bucky hasn’t seen that look before and he doesn’t know what it means, but he really wants to see it again. 

 

“He is! Santa is coming!” Emma says, wiggling slightly. “Stebe said he would help me make cookies for Santa,” She continues, and Bucky smiles widely at that, filing it away in his mind for later as he thinks he needs to be around with his camera ready. 

 

“He did? Did you know that Steve makes cookies as a job? He’s _really_ good at cookies,” Bucky says, faking a whisper to Emma and biting his lip to stop from laughing at the look of awe on her face.

 

“ _No_ ,” she whispers back, “You can make cookies as a job?”

 

“Only the best people can get paid to make cookies,” Rebecca says as she steps into the living room, a sippy cup in her hand. “Good morning, Bucky,” she greets, smiling at him as he shifts his arm under Emma slightly, his arm feeling slightly tired. “Emma, why don’t you go grab some of your toys to show Uncle Bucky, hmm?” She says as she holds the sippy cup out to Emma, who grabs it with a happy squeal. 

 

“Toys!” Emma yells, wiggling enough that Bucky has to set her down or he’ll drop her, and she's off like a rocket as soon as her feet touch the ground. 

 

“Where’s Jace?” He asks after he’s watched her round the corner of the living room, looking over at Rebecca, “Steve said he was a real charmer this morning.”

 

“He was an a-s-s hole,” Rebecca says, rolling her eyes, “He’s still in denial about the fact that military men can be gay, so having the two of you here is really messing with his mind.”

 

“Well you can tell him that there will be no queer s-e-x under his roof,” Bucky says, laughing, “Because, you know, there’s more than a few ways to be queer.”

 

Rebecca lets out a loud laugh and pulls him into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here,” She says into his ear as he hugs her back, “And that you brought Steve, he’s wonderful.”

 

“He is,” Bucky agrees, meeting his eye over Rebecca’s shoulder, “And I’m glad I’m here too. I couldn’t think of any other way to spend Christmas, other than with my favorite people. And Steve.”

 

Both Rebecca and Steve laugh at that, and after a moment Bucky joins in. Emma comes barreling into the room dragging a bucket full of toys behind her, “Bucky! Come play with me!”

 

Bucky lets go of Rebecca and drops onto the ground, fighting back surprise when Emma drops straight into his lap, dumping her bucket of toys onto the ground in front of them. “Play nice, Emma,” Rebecca warns, and Emma grins up at her as she grabs her stuffed toy octopus and waves it in Bucky’s face. 

 

“Momma says you only have one arm, so Mister Pus wants to share his arms with you,” Emma says to him, grinning, and Bucky can hear both Steve and Rebecca coo in the background as he smiles back at her. 

 

Bucky grabs the stuffed octopus from Emma and holds him up to his ear, pretending to listen to him speak. “That’s very nice of Mister Pus,” He starts, and he hears Steve and Rebecca snicker, “But I think that he should have all of his arms, I’m pretty good at doing things with my one arm now, Emma, but thank you for offering.”

 

“Y’welcome,” Emma says easily, grabbing a toy truck from the pile of toys in front of them and starting to tell him all about it. They’re ten toys deep, and Bucky is pretty sure that Steve has been taking pictures the entire time they’ve been on the floor, but he’s just happy to be spending time with Emma, even if he is still holding her stuffed octopus. They’re still on the floor when the front door opens and Jace walks through it, looking less than amused as he does. “Daddy!” Emma yells, abandoning Bucky’s lap and running to Jace; she giggles as she’s swooped up into his arms. 

 

“Hello, Bucky,” Jace says, sounding about as happy to see him as Bucky is. 

 

“Jace,” Bucky nods and finally gets up from the floor since Emma is preoccupied with telling her father about their day. 

 

Steve steps up next to him and nudges him with his elbow. “Be nice,” he mutters under his breath, and Bucky rolls his eyes because that’s easy for him to say, Steve doesn’t know Jace as well as he does. “Come help me make dinner,” Steve says, louder this time as he hooks his arm through Bucky’s and drags him into the kitchen. 

 

“I am not to be in my sister’s kitchen under any circumstances,” Bucky says just as Rebecca steps into the kitchen and points at him, narrowing her eyes. 

 

“Do not touch anything,” she says as she wags her finger at him, “This will not be Christmas of '03 all over again, I refuse.”

 

Steve looks between them and Bucky snickers at the look of confusion on his face. “I might have accidentally set the ham on fire,” he says with a shrug.

 

“How…” Steve trails off, “How exactly do you set a ham on fire?”

 

“You forget to take the plastic wrapping off before you stick it in the oven,” Rebecca answers, “Do not let him touch anything that needs to go anywhere near a heat source.”

 

Steve laughs and shakes his head, and Bucky can see that fond look that he reserves for him starting to make an appearance. “You got it, he’s on mixing duty only. Kid rules,” he says, and Rebecca nods vigorously as Bucky sighs. 

 

Bucky enjoys watching Steve in the kitchen because he looks so comfortable, like he fits in the kitchen no matter the size by sheer will power. He leans against the far counter and watches Steve grab some things out of the pantry and refrigerator, lining them up on the counter as he goes along. “What are you making?” He asks, and he sees Steve jerk slightly, a sure sign that he had forgotten that Bucky was in the kitchen with him. 

 

Steve looks over his shoulder at him and Bucky is hit over the head with a wave of love so strong that he grips the edge of the counter tightly, mentally blaming his sister for bringing up the fact that he’s disgustingly in love with Steve Rogers the night before. It’s easier for him to ignore it when someone else doesn’t point it out, and Rebecca is very aware of this fact which, he’s sure, is why she mentioned it in the first place. “I’m going to make chicken alfredo,” Steve answers, “From scratch, so this will probably be a mess but it’s the least I can do for your sister since she’s letting me stay here.”

 

“She already likes you,” Bucky teases, “You don’t have to try and woo her to your side.”

 

“That’s good to hear,” Steve says with a smile, “I know she's important to you so I wouldn’t want her to dislike me.”

 

“I don’t think anyone can dislike you,” Bucky grins at Steve as he finishes dumping some stuff that Bucky is pretty sure is the base for the sauce into a deep sauce pot.

 

“You did try to run away the first time we met,” Steve points out, and Bucky rolls his eyes as he pushes away from the counter and settles in behind Steve, wrapping his arm around his waist loosely. 

 

“That was because my brain is the asshole, not you,” he replies quietly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder after he’s done. “And I don’t try to run away from you any more,” he points out as Steve squeezes his wrist gently and laughs.

 

“It _would_ be weird if my boyfriend ran away from me all the time,” Steve says as he stirs whatever is in the sauce pot that is beginning to smell delicious. 

 

Bucky presses up on his toes to see over Steve’s shoulder and grins. “It might make things exciting, but also I hate running so I probably won’t do that. The sauce smells amazing,” he says, able to see the faintest blush on Steve’s cheeks from this angle. 

 

“It was my ma’s recipe,” He replies as he sets the lid on top of the pot, scooting the two of them back enough that he can turn in Bucky’s arm and not smack into anything on the stove. “Now, are you going to share with me why you’re not a fan of…” He trails off and instead nods toward the living room where Bucky can hear Jace and Rebecca discussing something that he can’t quite make out.

 

Bucky makes a face but Steve’s gaze doesn’t falter. “We were friends, in high school, and then some shi- _stuff_ happened and we weren’t any more,” he answers finally, “It was messy but then after high school he started dating Rebecca yet he didn’t know she was my sister until after the like, third date I think?” Bucky shrugs as he finishes, “He can be an a-hole, but Rebecca loves him so I deal with it.”

 

“You’re a good brother,” Steve says as he smiles at Bucky, “And a good uncle.”

 

Bucky can feel himself blush. “Shut up,” he says, ducking his head and lightly head butting Steve’s collarbones.

 

“Unc’a Bucky!” Emma nearly yells from where she’s standing in the doorway, “Up!”

 

Bucky and Steve laugh as they separate, Steve turning back to the stove and Bucky closing the distance between Emma and himself. He bends down and manages to pick her up with his one arm again, situating her on his hip as she wraps her arms tightly around his neck. “What are you up to, Em?” He asks as he steps up to the stove with her, letting her check out what’s going on. 

 

“Nothin’,” She answers, wiggling slightly in his arm as she says, “Smells yummy.”

 

“Steve is very good at cooking,” Bucky says to her with a smile, “However I am not, I’m awful at it.”

 

“I’m not that good,” Steve mumbles as he stirs the pot, putting the lid back on it as he turns to Emma and Bucky. “Can I?” He asks, holding his hands out slightly and Emma makes an excited sound, loosening her grip from Bucky neck as she leans toward Steve. 

 

It’s too much, is Bucky’s immediate thought as he watches Steve hold Emma carefully. He takes a quiet step back and works his phone out of his pocket, sneaking a picture of them standing in front of the stove, Steve’s back to the camera with Emma looking over his shoulder and smiling at the camera. He sends the picture to Ray with the caption, _i think i’m dying this is too much_. He hits send and then adds on another text that says, _tell brad i said happy day one of Hanukkah!!!_

 

He doesn’t have to wait long for a text back, a long string of exclamation points followed by, _i’m p sure if u had wet dreams that would 100% be your main one_. 

 

_also i’m p sure that i’m in love with steve, h_ e replies quickly before he loses his nerve, watching Steve talk to Emma quietly as he stirs the sauce. 

 

“Hey, babe, could you open the noodles and put them in the boiling water? My hands are full,” Steve asks, and it takes Bucky a moment to realize that he’s speaking to him because pet names aren’t a thing that they’ve ever done. Steve steps away from the stove enough that Bucky can squeeze between them and the stove to grab the package of noodles and open them, dumping them into the water as he smiles. 

 

“Sure, _babe_ ,” Bucky teases as he steps back from the stove again, going back to his safe distance and leaning against the far counter. He watches Emma get wiggly in Steve’s arms before he sets her down and she’s off again, running loudly through the house and making happy kid sounds. Once Emma is out of view Steve turns to Bucky and closes the distance between them quickly, pulling him in for a kiss that tingles down his spine. “Uh,” Bucky blinks after the kiss, his hand resting over Steve’s heart, “What was that for?”

 

“No reason,” Steve answers, one hand on Bucky’s waist and the other cradling his jaw, “Just felt like kissing you is all.”

 

“I’m always down for kissing,” Bucky says honestly, still recovering from the kiss even as he leans in and returns it, their mouths pressing together slowly as Steve sighs between them. 

 

They stand there for a moment, enjoying each other’s company, before there’s a light sizzling from the stove. The water for the pasta is beginning to boil over and Bucky is only slightly offended when Steve jumps away from him and goes to the stove. “Sorry,” Steve says, sounding sheepish as he glances over his shoulder at Bucky, who is still leaning against the counter with a smile on his face, “The pasta was…”

 

“I know,” Bucky waves him off. “You can make it up to me later,” he finishes as Rebecca walks into the kitchen, Steve winking at Bucky before he turns back to the stove. 

 

“You guys are gross,” Rebecca says, grinning at Steve’s back as she leans against the counter next to Bucky. “Emma can’t stop babbling about how yummy the food smells so I came in here to see for myself,” she says, and Steve turns to grab her hand, tugging her up next to the stove. 

 

“You can even try the sauce,” he says as he hands over a clean spoon, “Just don’t tell Emma, she’ll never forgive me.”

 

“Emma thinks the sun shines out of your a-s-s,” Rebecca teases as she dips the spoon into the sauce, blowing on the spoon before she pops it into her mouth. “Oh my God, you can never leave,” she says with a groan, which makes Bucky laugh. 

 

“Wait until you try his cookies,” he says and Rebecca groans again. 

 

“If you break his heart,” Rebecca says, turning to point the now clean spoon at Bucky, “I will break your only arm off and beat you with it.”

 

Steve laughs and takes the spoon from her, dropping it in the sink as he steps back toward Bucky. “You Barnes’ are too charming,” he says, pressing a kiss to his cheek before he heads over to the fridge, grabbing parmesan cheese from it before he steps back up to the stove.  

 

Rebecca steps back to the counter and leans against it again, bumping her hip against Bucky’s as she does. “We try,” She says with a laugh, “Same goes for you buddy. You break my brother's heart and I will beat you with _both_ of your arms, since you’re so kind as to have two.”

 

Steve finishes dumping a handful of cheese into the sauce pot, checking on the noodles before he turns around to face them. “You don’t have to worry about that, Bucky is definitely the heartbreaker if there’s going to be one,” he says with a shrug, and his words make Bucky blush slightly even as he shakes his head in disagreement. 

 

“Oh don’t deny it Bucky,” Rebecca teases, reaching out to pinch his cheek, “You did break little Maddie O’Harra’s heart in high school.”

 

“She was a cheerleader that had ridiculous ideas in her head about me and her,” Bucky denies, “I was extremely queer in high school, it’s not _my_ fault that she didn’t know how to take no for an answer.” Steve laughs at that, shaking his head as Bucky continues, explaining, “She had this grand idea for asking me to our senior prom and it was…stupid. The most embarrassing thing, especially since I had been hanging out with my boyfriend at the time, was the fact that she did it at lunch. In front of everyone. In the school.”

 

Rebecca is laughing as he tells the story, and Bucky remembers the look on her face specifically when it happened, the shock in her eyes when he had been practically cornered in the cafeteria. “It was the weirdest thing, my gay as hell brother being cornered by cheerleaders, the whole squad mind you, and being asked to prom in this elaborately weird mating dance of sorts by Maddie O’Harra of all people, the most popular girl in school. He was emo, like super wearing black eyeliner and band tees and long stringy hair _emo_ , and this chick was so into him? Very weird,” she says, and Bucky has the hope that she’s lost the high school yearbooks that she’d been known to hoard because the next logical step is to pull those pictures out. “Bucky is lucky that we just had to put a bunch of stuff in storage or else I would show you the ridiculous yearbook photos of him,” she says, and Bucky is very relieved, which must show on his face because Steve laughs at him. 

 

The rest of the night goes in the same vein, the three of them chatting and having fun as they eat dinner, Jace and Emma chiming in when they think of something to say. For Jace it’s usually something that makes Bucky grind his teeth, and Emma usually says something that make him want to pinch her cheeks and coo. They settle down to watch a children’s movie until Emma’s bedtime rolls around, and Jace follows not soon after, Rebecca tapping out as well as she’s swearing she’s tired. Bucky has the sneaking suspicion that she’s really going to bed to give him and Steve some alone time. “And then there were two,” Steve says quietly as Rebecca walks down the hallway toward where Bucky knows her and Jace’s bedroom is. 

 

“Becks thinks she’s being sneaky,” Bucky says as he scoots down the length of the couch, pressing against Steve’s side, “She’s the least sneaky person I know, and that’s saying something because Ray is my best friend.”

 

“She’s lovely,” Steve says, wrapping an arm around Bucky and pressing a kiss to his head, “And so is Ray, I guess.” 

 

Bucky laughs and turns his head, pressing a sloppy kiss to the juncture of Steve’s shoulder and neck. “I just realized I’ve been in my pajamas all day,” he says, stifling a yawn against Steve’s shoulder, “I’m a horrible example of an adult.”

 

“Lord forbid Emma thinks being an adult means making the choice to wear pajamas whenever you want,” Steve grins down at Bucky, and he’s struck with that gross _love_ feeling again, his insides practically mushy with it as he stares back up at him. Bucky yawns again and is disappointed that he’s feeling as tired as he is, because as cheesy as Rebecca was for leaving them alone he really does appreciate it. “Are you tired?” Steve asks, bringing the arm that’s not draped across his shoulder up to brush the backs of his fingers against Bucky’s cheek. 

 

“I wish I wasn’t,” Bucky admits, “I don’t want to leave you out here all alone.”

 

“I’ll come to bed with you,” Steve says, standing up as he does and holding his hands out to him. 

 

Bucky accepts his hand up and stands, pushing into his personal space as he gets to his feet. “You don’t have to, if you’re not tired,” he says quietly, looking up at him.

 

“I just want to lay with you,” Steve says, and Bucky knows that if the light was brighter he would be able to see the flush on his cheeks, “If that’s okay.”

 

“It’s a little gay,” Bucky laughs, reaching his hand up to press against Steve’s cheek, his five o’clock shadow scratching against his palm, “But it’s definitely okay.”

 

“I would say I’m a big gay,” Steve says, and Bucky rolls his eyes as he turns slightly to grab the TV remote off of the couch, pressing the power button before he drops the remote back down onto the couch. He grabs Steve’s hand and the two of them walk toward their bedroom for the week, smiling at each other the whole time. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you thought Steve and Bucky couldn't be gayer, this chapter happens

The next few days go by in a whirlwind of Christmas meal prep, the likes of which Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever been a part of. And he’s not sure he wants to be again, he thinks to himself as he’s standing in his socks and too nice for this early in the morning clothes Christmas morning, watching Steve and Jace argue over the perfect temperature to start cooking the turkey at. 

 

“Are Santa’s cookies still sitting out?” He asks over their whisper yelling, and Jace waves in the direction of the living room. 

 

Bucky rolls his eyes and heads that way, spotting the cookies sitting on the coffee table. “Are they still fighting over the meat?” Rebecca asks from behind her cup of coffee, a cookie in her hand as well. 

 

“They are,” Bucky says as he grabs the last chocolate chip cookie from the plate, making sure to leave some bigger crumbs on the plate, “And I listened just long enough to know I needed a cookie.” Rebecca laughs quietly, glancing down the hallway toward where Bucky knows Emma’s room is. “Don’t the kids usually wake up first?” Bucky asks around his mouthful of cookie.

 

“She sleeps like a rock,” Rebecca replies, “And we have a lot of shit to do for dinner before the parents arrive.” 

 

“Are Jace’s parent’s coming?” Bucky asks, finishing his cookie and shooting a longing look at the empty plate on the table.

 

“Just ours,” Rebecca answers, shaking her head, “Jace’s parents got Thanksgiving, and they’re coming in at the beginning of the year as well.”

 

Steve and Jace must have come to an agreement on the oven settings because the two of them walk back out into the living room with smiles on their faces, and Jace is patting Steve’s shoulder heartily. “I forgot, I have some presents for everyone in my bag,” Steve says, and that’s news to Bucky, enough so that he pushes off of the couch and insists he come with him to the bedroom. 

 

“You didn’t tell me you got everyone presents,” Bucky says lightly as he closes their bedroom door quietly, “You’re out performing me in front of my family.”

 

“I want to make a good impression,” Steve says, blushing enough that Bucky can’t help himself, grabbing one of his hands just before he can turn towards his bags and tugging him forward, into him. 

 

“They love you,” Bucky says honestly. “Emma might think you’re _actually_ Jesus, and Rebecca has said nothing but glowing things about you the whole time we’ve been here. And _I_ don’t like Jace but even he seems to be fond of you,” he says, squeezing Steve’s hand in his and watching the other man’s gaze drop to his mouth.

 

“I love you,” Steve says, and it’s so matter of fact that it takes a moment for Bucky to process it, long enough that Steve starts looking uncomfortable. “Or, I mean…” Bucky reaches up and covers his mouth, stopping his words. 

 

“My turn,” Bucky says, smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt, “I love you too. But I really can’t believe you did this in my sister’s guest room of all places.”

 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Steve says against Bucky palm, and Bucky moves his hand away from his mouth, resting it on the back of his neck so that his finger tips can tug slightly on the hair there. “It just sort of came out of my mouth,” he says, looking sheepish. 

 

“We seem to have a thing with that, not meaning to spill our feelings until we do,” Bucky laughs before he tugs him down into a kiss, his eyes closing as the kiss deepens and Steve’s arms wrap around his waist. “Becks can’t know we’ve had a moment, because she will never let me live this down,” Bucky says quietly when they separate, causing Steve to laugh. 

 

Steve finishes laughing and kisses Bucky again, nearly tilting him backwards onto the bed. “Okay, I really do have to get the gifts,” he says, pulling Bucky back up and straightening him out, and Bucky is dazzled by him again. 

 

“Okay, okay,” Bucky agrees, backing away from Steve with his hand in the air, “Grab the gifts, I’m gonna go grab another cup of coffee.” He blows a kiss over his shoulder as he walks out of the bedroom and into the hallway, a bounce in his step that he can’t seem to shake.

 

———

 

“I still can’t believe you got her a toy that counts in three different languages,” Rebecca says to Steve, laughing over a glass of wine, “Does this mean I’m gonna have to learn French and Spanish just to talk to my kid?”

 

“Well just think, if she has your dedication she won’t even learn how to count to five in another language,” Bucky says, and he's proud that he only flinches a bit when Rebecca kicks him under the table, the two of them sitting across from each other in the dining room while Steve is in the kitchen and Jace is with Emma in the living room, putting together a giant doll house that Bucky bought for her. 

 

“I thought it was nifty,” Steve says honestly as he peeks at the potatoes in the boiling pot on the stove, “Very educational.”

 

Bucky shakes his head at his boyfriend and Rebecca wiggles her eyebrows. “Mom and Dad are gonna be here soon,” she says to Bucky, and his stomach clenches automatically.

 

“About that,” Steve starts from the kitchen, leaning against the counter and looking at the siblings, “Am I your boyfriend or…just a friend, when they’re here?”

 

Rebecca and Bucky laugh loudly, and he almost feels sorry for the look of annoyance that crosses Steve’s face. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, covering his mouth for a moment, “It’s just, I’ve been out to them since before I knew what coming out was so you’re definitely my boyfriend.”

 

“Oh, good,” Steve says, smiling, “I just wasn’t sure because I’ve uh, there’s been an issue with  that in the past. One of the cons of usually dating former or current military, among other things.”

 

“I would be offended but I know what you mean,” Bucky smiles back, taking a sip of the water in front of him. He looks at his phone and sees that it’s late enough to text back home, and he pulls up his conversation with Ray typing out, _let me know when sam gives u your present bro. steve said he loves me._ _merry christmas!_

 

“Who are you texting?” Rebecca asks, leaning forward as she tries to be nosey.

 

“Ray, I told him to let me know when our friend Sam gives him the present from me,” Bucky answers honestly, “I didn’t trust him to not open the gift before Christmas, and I didn’t want him to ruin the dazzle of a Christmas present, so I gave it to Sam for safe keeping. He’s giving it to him today, while Ray is working.”

 

“He’s working on Christmas? Did he not want to go home?” Rebecca asks, and Bucky shakes his head.

 

“That was a small part of it, but the main part is that he and his boyfriend are doing Hanukkah this year, they had a huge dinner at their place with his boyfriend’s adoptive parents the first night, and they’re keeping it low key the rest of the nights. So he says,” Bucky explains as the doorbell rings, which causes a loud yell from what he assumes is either a banshee or Emma.

 

“Grandma! Grandpa!” She yells, and Bucky sees her run past the dining room doorway in a blur of color toward the front door. 

 

“Don’t open the door!” Rebecca says loudly enough to be heard by her daughter, “Wait for your daddy!”

 

“Okay, Mama!” Emma yells back, and Bucky is already standing from his chair, laughing as he watches Rebecca down the rest of her wine before she does the same.

 

“You ready for this mess?” Rebecca asks him, glancing over his shoulder at Steve.

 

“Always,” Bucky answers happily, holding his arm out for Rebecca to thread her’s through. They walk through the hallway and make it into the living room, with Steve trailing behind them, just as Jace opens the front door, pushing Emma back gently as he does. 

 

“Emma-bear!” Bucky’s mom says, crouching down as soon as she sees Emma, “You look so cute in your dress! Look at you!” He watches his mom scoop up Emma and swing her around, catching his dad’s eye while he smiles. 

 

“James,” his dad greets, pushing gently past his mom to step into the house, messing up Emma’s hair as he passes by which earns him a laugh, “You look well.”

 

“I look like I’m missing an arm,” Bucky says with a laugh, “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

 

“Yeah well, you’ve always looked weird to me, buddy,” his dad says as he grabs him into a hug, pulling Rebecca in as well. “You look good too, Rebecca.”

 

“You saw me last week, dad,” Rebecca laughs as she ducks into the hug, and Bucky has never felt so loved and so suffocated all at once. 

 

Bucky and Rebecca escape their dad’s hug and are immediately pulled into another group affair by their mom, this one markedly more emotional than the one before if the wet spot he can feel growing on his collar is to be believed. “Mom, I’m fine,” Bucky says soothingly, rubbing his hand across her shoulders as she pulls herself together. 

 

“You just looked so small the last time I saw you,” she says quietly as she pulls back from the hug, grabbing both of his shoulders and giving him an intense once over. “You look good now, like you’re eating, and sleeping,” she continues, smiling as Bucky raises his hand to her face and wipes under her eyes clumsily. 

 

“It’s hard not to eat well when you’re dating someone that feeds you pastries at every chance,” Bucky says, looking over his shoulder and catching Steve’s eye with a smile, nodding him over. “Mom, this is Steve Rogers, Steve, this is my mom, Dorene,” he introduces, and isn’t at all surprised when his mom pulls Steve into a tight hug.

 

“Mrs. Barnes it’s very nice to meet you,” Steve says, slightly muffled by Dorene’s hair.

 

“Call me Dorene, please,” she says, pulling away from the hug and holding him by the shoulders. “Mark, come say hello to the nice young man that’s been feeding our James,” she says over her shoulder to her husband, and Bucky shares a look with him as he laughs silently. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Sir,” Steve says as Dorene finally releases him, reaching out to shake Mark’s hand.

 

“It's just Mark, I don’t like being reminded of how old I am,” he says as he shakes his hand, “What branch were you in?”

 

Bucky smiles at the question, knowing how good his dad is at spotting a veteran. “I was in the Navy,” Steve answers, and Bucky can’t hold back the laugh that escapes his mouth. Mark and Dorene look between the two men while Steve sighs. “Okay, I was a Navy SEAL, it’s not exactly the same thing,” he corrects himself with a shrug, and it’s something that Bucky consistently notices, him downplaying his experiences. He figures it’s for the same reason that Steve never told him about his injuries, a mix of shame and disgust at himself for being a part of the thing that he now hates. Bucky makes a mental note to ask his therapist about it when they get back to California, though whether or not he actually remembers is another matter entirely. 

 

“Well that sounds exciting,” Dorene says with a smile, reaching up to pat his cheek, “Where did you learn to cook? Was that also in the military?”

 

“No, it wasn't," Steve laughs, and Bucky is happy to see him smile at his mom, “I learned how to cook from my Ma, she was always in the kitchen when I was a kid and I just kind of, got sucked in too after my dad passed away.”

 

Dorene makes a sound that Bucky knows for a fact means she’s about to mother Steve, so he cuts her off. “Ma, why don’t you open your presents from Rebecca and all of them, and me, you too Dad,” he says, and he knows it’s the only thing that can distract her enough that she finally looks away from Steve and back over to him.

 

“You look so good,” she says as she takes his arm, the two of them walking further into the living room to stand by the Christmas tree as Rebecca settles on the couch, “I’m so pleased that you’re doing so well out there in California. Have you got a job yet?”

 

“No Ma,” Bucky sighs, “I’m working on getting my arm first, and then I’ve got my eye on this bookshop near my friend Ray’s condo, the guy that owns it is named Vision, which is a very weird name but it’s fitting because _he’s_ very weird.” Steve comes up behind them and brushes his hand against the small of Bucky’s back as he walks past them, heading back into the kitchen. 

 

“He’s very good looking,” Dorene whispers to Bucky once Steve is out of the room. “Now where is this present you’re promising?” She says louder, and Mark laughs as he joins them by the tree, Bucky nearly getting taken down by Emma as she runs into his legs. 

 

“Presents?” Emma asks, sounding excited. 

 

“Oh yes, I knew there was something we were leaving in the car. Jace, come help me carry them in?” Mark asks, nudging Bucky with his elbow before he and Jace turn around, giving Emma the choice to sit on the couch with Rebecca or hang out in the kitchen with Steve, she nearly trips over her own feet going into the kitchen which causes Rebecca to laugh slightly under her breath.

 

Bucky can hear Emma’s excited chattering all the way in the living room. “It’s nothing big,” Bucky says as he leans down, grabbing the small present that he’s left under the tree for his mom, “But when I saw it I immediately thought of you.”

 

Dorene smiles as he hands over the small wrapped package, “I’m sure it will be lovely.” She unwraps it carefully, like she always does because _saving the paper won’t kill you, James_ , and lets out a small gasp as she opens the jewelry box that had been wrapped. “Oh James, it’s beautiful,” she says, and Bucky knew she would like the necklace, a blue sapphire replica of the Heart of the Ocean from the movie Titanic. That he ordered from QVC because he’d accidentally stumbled on the channel once a few months ago and suddenly he was itching to buy from it, the necklace was the first thing he purchased but Bucky knows it will not be the last. “Wherever did you find it?” Dorene asks, twisting it between her fingers, “It looks just like the real thing.”

 

“Around,” Bucky answers, not wanting to answer the question directly, “I knew that you would love it though, or at least I hoped you would.”

 

“It beats anything your father has given me lately,” she teases, and Bucky can tell it’s a lie by the way her eyes sparkle as she mentions his dad, “Can you put it on for—oh God, I’m sorry!” She covers her mouth as she gasps, her eyes darting down to his empty sleeve.

 

Rebecca goes to stand up from the couch but Bucky waves her off slightly, tossing her a crooked smile as he does. “Mom, it’s okay,” Bucky soothes. “I can’t actually put it on you but I know a guy with two hands that’ll do anything I ask,” he says jokingly before he calls over his shoulder, “Steve! Can you come here for a second?”

 

Steve is in the living room in less than a handful of seconds, with Emma riding on his shoulders, the two of them having to duck down in the doorway slightly to fit. “What’s up, Buck?” He asks, smiling. 

 

“Can you help my mom put the necklace on? I would but…” He trails off, waving his one hand in the air slightly, “Haven’t quite managed to get the hang of small closures like that yet.” 

 

“Yeah, of course,” Steve says, stepping up behind Dorene to grab the necklace from her, clasping it around her neck gently as Emma holds onto his hair. Bucky takes a mental snapshot of the moment because it’s the best thing that he's seen since this morning, the look on Steve’s face when he told him that he loved him. 

 

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Dorene asks, touching the stone with her fingertips as she turns to Steve after he’s hooked it closed.

 

“It is,” Steve agrees, “He told me about it but he wouldn’t let me see it as he’s had it wrapped since, well since you forced Ray to wrap it for you while you guys were doing the Hanukah gift wrapping that I’m nearly one hundred percent sure isn’t actually a thing.” Bucky laughs as he nods, reaching up to tweak Emma’s nose slightly as Dorene goes to hold the front door for Mark and Jace, who they can hear coming up the walkway. Rebecca finally pushes herself off of the couch, grabbing Emma off of Steve’s shoulders before she can start getting antsy and setting her down.

 

“You’re a doll,” she says to Steve, nudging his shoulder with a fist, “You’re too good with her.”

 

“I used to help out at a daycare back when I was in high school,” Steve offers up, shrugging with a smile. “Kids are easy, all they want is attention and someone to show them cool things every once in awhile,” he continues as Jace and Mark walk into the living room, arms laden with gifts and Bucky is a thousand percent sure that nearly all are marked with Emma’s name. He’s not worried that his parents got her the same thing that he did because he was at least smart enough to let them know what he had gotten her before they started shopping. 

 

“That sounds a lot like Ray,” Bucky mumbles to Steve, which causes a laugh. 

 

“You’re the worst best friend,” Steve says under his breath even as he curls his arm over Bucky’s shoulder, pulling him into a half hug and pressing a kiss to his hair. Bucky feels himself flush as his mom and dad glance over and smile at them. “This is the gayest I have ever felt, this is Peak Gay,” Steve mumbles, again under his breath as Bucky wraps his arm around his waist. 

 

“Peak Gay,” Bucky agrees as the two of them watch Emma tear into her presents, Bucky chuckling when he sees his mom flinch at the paper crumbling under her small hands. 

 

————

 

“So James,” Dorene starts as they’re beginning to dig into their dinner, “When are you going to settle down?”

 

“Mom, oh my God,” Bucky says around a mouthful of mashed potatoes, avoiding looking at Steve, “I brought my boyfriend for Christmas, isn’t that enough?”

 

“You know how I feel,” Dorene says, “You’re a wonderful man and ever since Rebecca settled down I’ve wanted you to find a nice man—”

 

“Mom," Rebecca interrupts, “Leave off of him, okay? James is great, Steve is great, and right now we’re having a great meal. Which means no awkward questions that make Bucky want to drown himself in the gravy boat.” He guesses she had seen him eyeing it, because that thought had crossed his mind.

 

Steve drops a hand under the table and sets it on Bucky’s thigh, a move that does more for grounding Bucky than anything he has learned in therapy. “Bucky is great,” Steve agrees with a smile as he takes a small sip of the wine in front of him. “And we’re enjoying each other’s company for now,” he says to Dorene and Mark, and Bucky wants to kiss him in front of his fucking parents, which makes him feel equal parts amused and ridiculous as he squeezes Steve’s hand on his thigh in thanks. 

 

The rest of the dinner goes quietly, pleasant conversations flowing around the table and Bucky hasn’t felt so happy in a while. They’re just finishing up dessert when his phone rings in his pocket, he takes it out and when he sees it’s Ray excuses himself from the table, flashing the screen at Steve so that he can see who it is. “Hidey ho, neighbor,” he says as he steps out onto the deck, the cold outside refreshing after being in the overly warm stuffy house.

 

“This is the best thing anyone has ever gotten me and I swear to God when you get back here I am going to kiss you on the fucking _mouth_ ,” Ray shouts from the phone, and Bucky nearly has to hold it away from his ear so he doesn’t flinch in pain. 

 

“Are we not counting Brad’s dick? Because I think I’ve heard you expound on that too much for it not to be the best thing you’ve ever been given,” Bucky laughs as he turns and leans his back on the railing, looking through the sliding glass door at his family and Steve interacting in the house.

 

“I’m not counting his dick! But you buddy, you are the very best friend anyone could ever have because oh my God you got me a fucking Stratocaster, you absolute dill hole,” Ray says, and Bucky is surprised to hear that he actually sounds emotional. 

 

“Don’t cry,” Bucky says, “It was used, bro, it’s not brand spanking new.”

 

“That doesn’t matter! It’s the thought! And it’s fucking mint green, I want to die, it’s so pretty,” Bucky laughs at Ray’s excitement, happy that the present went over as well as it did. 

 

“I had to ask Brad what color he thought you would like,” he replies, smiling at Steve who glances at him through the sliding glass door. “He wasn’t pleased that I was getting you a guitar but what does he care, he’s not gonna be there for very much longer until he ships out again,” Bucky finishes and it’s Ray’s turn to laugh. 

 

Ray and Bucky chat for a few more minutes about how their weeks have been and Bucky is almost convinced that Ray’s not going to bring it up when, “So, you and Steve said the words, huh?”

 

“I knew you would ask,” Bucky sighs, “We said it this morning, he said it first which, I was relieved but also a little annoyed that he got the guts first.” He and Ray laugh before he continues, “I haven’t told anyone else because Becks mentioned it the first night we were here and I’d hate for her to be right.”

 

“I do hear horror stories about younger sisters being proven right,” Ray laughs and he and Bucky chat a few more minutes before he says he needs to go, citing the fact that his break is over and Natasha is eyeballing him from behind the counter. They say goodbye and hang up, Bucky smiling and shivering slightly as he walks back into the house, making sure the door to the deck is closed solidly behind him. 

 

“How’d he like it?” Steve asks as Bucky steps into the kitchen, a stack of dessert plates held in his hand.

 

“I’m pretty sure he was going to cry until I harassed him about it,” Bucky answers honestly as he hands Steve the plates. 

 

Bucky watches Steve clean the plates as he leans against the counter, his gaze tracing over his profile. “What are you looking at?” Steve asks after a few moments, drying two of the plates that he’s just cleaned. 

 

“Your face,” he replies, smiling, “It’s a good face.”

 

Bucky can see Steve roll his eyes even as he smiles. “Shut up,” he mumbles as he turns the sink on again, rising off another stack of plates. The two of them stand in the kitchen in companionable silence, and Bucky can hear the voices of his family in the living room as he smiles at Steve.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introducing: the shortest chapter in this entire fic

“Text me when you land,” Rebecca says after a few moments of hugging Bucky, her arms around his waist tight enough that he’s not sure he’ll be able to breath for much longer if it continues. 

 

“Of course,” Bucky says against her hair, “And I’ll call you in a few days, like I always do.”

 

Rebecca lets him go and grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him once before she lets him go completely and repeats the process with Steve, mumbling something at him that makes Steve look over at Bucky with a smile on his face. “Yeah, of course,” Bucky hears Steve respond, and he’s curious as to what was said, but he’s not curious enough to actually ask. “Be safe driving home,” Steve says to Rebecca as she lets him go, and Bucky seconds his request. 

 

“I always am,” Rebecca waves off their concern and Bucky gives her one last hug before he and Steve walk to the security line of the airport, the crowds bigger than they had been when they landed if that’s possible. 

 

“I love my family,” Bucky says to Steve while they’re sitting on a bench on the other side of security, Steve tying his shoes back on his feet, “But I’m so happy that we’re going home.”

 

“Your family was great, but I miss my kitchen,” Steve says, and Bucky laughs at him, shifting his carry on higher on his shoulder as he and Steve stand up, the two reaching out in tandem to hold hands as they walk through the airport toward their gate. 

 

The flight is easier than the one on the trip out, and they're in the air exactly on schedule. Bucky even manages to doze off for a handful of scattered moments, having purposefully stayed up late the night before in hopes that it would lead to him sleeping on the plane, his head resting on Steve’s shoulder when he does manage to nod off. He must nod off on the last legs of the trip, because the first thing he notices when Steve nudges him awake carefully is that they’re taxiing to the gate. “I texted Natasha to let her know that we’ve landed,” Steve says quietly, wiggling his phone in front of Bucky’s face. 

 

“That’s illegal,” Bucky mumbles through a yawn, “Not supposed to text when the seatbelt light is still on, you rebel.”

 

Steve laughs and Bucky is suddenly reminded that they’re going to be sleeping in separate beds for the first time in nearly a week. “I’m not a rebel, I just really want to go to work,” he says, sounding sheepish as he shifts, pocketing his cell phone. 

 

“You’re the weirdest,” Bucky says as the plane rolls to a complete stop, and he adjusts so that he’s sitting up in his chair, wiping his hand over his face tiredly. “Oh, I should warn you, Ray threatened to kiss me on the mouth when he sees me, because of the guitar,” he remembers, Ray’s voice in his head repeating the threat, and Steve laughs at him as they unbuckle their seat belts. 

 

“Well if he does I promise not to hit him…too hard,” Steve replies, and Bucky shakes his head as he stands up when the seat belt light flicks off, grabbing his carry on from under the seat in front of him, sighing when Steve grabs it from him and slings it over his shoulder. 

 

They work their way off the plane carefully, making it all the way to baggage claim without too much of a struggle. Bucky was worried that he wouldn’t be able to spot Natasha, but he shouldn’t have worried because she’s standing there with a big sign, having found the carousel that their bags are going to be appearing on. “Why did she make a sign?” Bucky asks as he reads the banner that she’s holding, a rainbow thing that says _Welcome Back Gnerds (gay nerds)_.  

 

“Because she’s a monster,” Steve answers even as his smile grows. 

 

Natasha smiles as Steve sweeps her up in a hug, and Bucky barely misses getting hit in the face with the poster as he swings her around. “I hear you guys had the gayest Christmas ever,” she says with a laugh as Steve sets her down, rolling her sign up.

 

“It was pretty gay,” Bucky agrees as he lets himself be pulled into a hug just as the carousel squeaks into motion, “I don’t know about _the gayest_ , though.”

 

“Love confessions on Christmas morning? Totally the gayest,” Natasha corrects as she lets Bucky go, and Bucky grins over his shoulder at Steve, who looks sheepish. “Yeah, he told me, because he’s a bigger nerd than you are,” she says, reaching out to punch Steve’s arm. 

 

The three of them are chatting as Steve and Bucky’s bags finally come around, and Bucky grabs his as Steve grabs his, working faster than Bucky is to grab two of them. Bucky sets his suitcase down and holds his hand out for his carry on, shaking his head as Steve, instead of handing it to him, puts it carefully over his head, resting it on his shoulder. “Gay,” Bucky laughs, shaking his hair out of the way as Steve shifts the strap slightly on his shoulder. 

 

“Very,” Steve agrees, ducking slightly to press a kiss to Bucky’s cheek as he pulls the two handles up on his suitcases. They make their way through the airports, chatting some more about what Steve missed in the shop. “Did we cement the date for protest?” Steve asks as they’re shoving their bags into Natasha’s trunk.

 

“We did,” Natasha says, “You know we did, I texted you about it the day they let me know.”

 

“Oh, right,” Steve laughs, shaking his head at himself. 

 

“But for Bucky I’ll repeat it,” Natasha says, grinning at Bucky, “The second weekend in January, because Bucky’s surgery is the third week and you wanted him to be able to come.”

 

“You really didn’t need to do that,” Bucky says as Steve opens the passenger side door for him, “I wouldn’t have been offended if you had it the same weekend as my surgery, I know how important it is to you.”

 

Steve shakes his head and leans on the door as Bucky slides into his seat. “It’s important for you to be a part of this, and also because if we had it the same weekend I wouldn’t be able to attend the protest as I’ll be taking care of you,” Steve says, raising an eyebrow when Bucky shakes his head slightly at him. 

 

“You’re too much,” Bucky says, and he says no more until Steve closes the door and drops into the back seat of the car. “I really don’t need you to put yourself out like this for me, I will probably be able to take care of myself after the surgery. Doctor Stark says things are going to look good right after, as long as everything goes as well as he's hoping,” He continues as Natasha settles into the driver’s seat, turning the car on and turning the volume of the radio down nearly simultaneously. 

 

“You know that’s not going to stop him,” Natasha says with a laugh. 

 

Bucky glances over his shoulder at Steve and grins at him. “I know, he’s too good to me,” he says, and Steve waves him off. 

 

“Disgusting,” Natasha says teasingly as Bucky leans forward and turns the radio up, singing along quietly to the song that has just started playing as they drive toward his apartment. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray's two best pals finally meet

“Hey asshole, Bucky’s on his way so you can stop looking like a lost puppy,” Natasha says to Ray as she walks through the front door of the coffee shop, just as Ray is handing over a coffee to Clint from the tattoo shop. 

 

Ray waits until Clint takes the cup from his hand before he shouts, “Yes! You picked them up from the airport already?”

 

“I did,” Natasha says as she stashes her purse under the counter, “Bucky was gonna shower before he comes in for a coffee, and Steve is on his way right now, the only reason I beat him is because I was able leave Bucky’s place before he was.”

 

“Were they gross?” Ray asks, signing a shaky _if you wait a few minutes Steve and Bucky will be here_ to Clint as he does, something he’s been trying to teach himself. 

 

Natasha nods and Clint smiles at Ray as he says, “That was at least legible!” He sounds excited as he says it, and Ray accepts the high five that he holds between them. “Can’t wait though, have an appointment in five,” Clint says, frowning exaggeratedly. 

 

Ray shrugs and frowns back, “Boooo,” he says as well as signs to Clint as Natasha knocks him out of the way to get to the register so that she can clock in. “Also, I haven’t looked like a lost puppy just because Bucky was gone,” he says, waving to Clint as he turns toward the door. 

 

“A little bit,” Brad corrects from where he’s sitting in the corner seat, the one next to the seat the Bucky usually sits in.

 

“I’m also pretty sure that you’ve dropped Bucky’s name at least every other sentence, and that’s only since I’ve been awake,” Nate says from one of the tables near the window, his laptop open in front of him. Ray wants to harass him somehow, but he’s not quite sure how he can do it when Nate isn’t actually lying.

 

“I hate you,” Ray says instead, narrowing his eyes at Nate as Natasha laughs. “Natasha, that’s Nate, the mysterious Nate you threatened to murder me over if I didn’t bring by, and Nate, this is Natasha, the woman that bullies Steve into signing my checks,” he introduces them, waving a hand between the two of them as Nate waves over at them. 

 

“You’re cute,” Natasha says, raising an eyebrow as Nate blushes, which makes Ray and Brad laugh loudly. 

 

“Th—thank you?” Nate says, smiling slightly and then looking back down at his computer, his fingers not having stopped moving the entire time. 

 

Ray shakes his head at Natasha. “Don’t harass the poor man, you have a girlfriend,” he says, waving a finger in her face.

 

“So,” Natasha says, “Just because I'm in a committed relationship doesn’t mean I’m _dead,_ Ray, I’m bi in practice, not just theory my dude.”

 

“I didn’t know you were bi,” Ray says, genuinely surprised, “I just always kind of thought that you were hella gay.”

 

“I am hella gay, my hella gay just happens to be hella bi,” she says with a shrug as she checks the pastries in the display case. “It’s a good thing Steve’s on his way now because we are seriously running low on the pre-made stuff that he left behind for us,” Natasha continues as she shifts the last of the peanut butter cookies on their tray.

 

Ray and Natasha work quietly behind the counter for a handful of minutes, bumping into each other slightly as they pass around each other. It’s quiet in the shop as Ray glances up and smiles at Brad, the blond man having looked up from his book at just the right time. The bell over the door rings, and Ray is almost certain that it’s Steve so when he looks over and sees Bucky standing there in all his glory he’s shocked into a laugh. “Bucky!” He yells as he catapults himself over the counter, ignoring Natasha swearing at him for the hundredth time for doing it. 

 

“'sup nerd,” Bucky greets as he allows Ray to scoop him into a tight hug, his arms going around Bucky’s middle as Bucky’s arm is draped around his shoulders. 

 

“I missed you!” Ray says loudly, right against his ear in a pointed attempt to be annoying. Bucky laughs as Ray finally lets him go, and Ray is only slightly surprised to find that Brad’s standing behind him, pulling Bucky into a short hug as well. “Aww, look at my boys being together like this,” he says, fluttering his eyes slightly and earning himself a smack on the arm from Bucky because of it. 

 

“Steve’s on his way,” Bucky says as Brad lets him go, “And he has a Hanukkah gift for you.” He looks at Brad as he finishes speaking, and Ray snorts at the look of surprise on Brad’s face. 

 

“You’ll have to excuse him, Brad’s not used to having _friends_ ,” Ray says as he reaches out to brush the backs of his fingers against Brad’s bicep with a smile as Brad rolls his eyes at him. 

 

“It’s true, the first three years I knew him he actually threatened to disembowel me if I tried to buy him a present, so this Steve guy should look out,” Nate says from his table, and Ray waves him over. 

 

Nate looks at his laptop like he doesn’t want to leave it and Ray sighs, “Come over here and I will comp you a fucking cookie, homes.”

 

“You will not,” Natasha says from her place behind the counter.

 

Ray waves her off, “Okay fine, I’ll _buy_ you a cookie, whatever, just step away from your masterpiece for three minutes.” Nate still looks pained even as he does what Ray’s asked, joining the small group near the door. “Best friend Nate, this is best friend Bucky, please get along because if you don’t I have no idea what I’ll do to survive it,” Ray says honestly as he watches Nate and Bucky shake hands, his stomach flipping as they smile at each other. 

 

“You don’t need to look at them like they’re kittens you’re hoping will play together,” Brad says with a laugh as he tugs Ray against his side for a moment before scooting back, putting the careful distance between them again that they need to have in place in public. 

 

“He’s already doing better than you did when we first met, he’s not insulted me for having only one arm yet,” Bucky says to Ray, and he sticks his tongue out in reply as Nate laughs. 

 

“That does sound like Ray,” Nate agrees, and Ray sticks his tongue out at him as well. 

 

“Great, you guys are gonna get along by insulting me, totally what I’ve always wanted,” Ray whines and clutches at his chest dramatically, which only causes Bucky and Nate to laugh at him more as they drop their handshake. “I liked you better when you were working on your school crap Nate, so go back to that,” he adds on, budging Nate back in the direction of his laptop.

 

Nate goes back to his laptop and Bucky goes up to the counter, leaving Ray and Brad standing near the door by themselves. “Did you still want to invite Bucky over tonight? For ‘ _Bro Bonding’_ as you have decided to call it even though I told you that’s a stupid name,” Brad asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, which only manages to distract Ray as he looks at his biceps. 

 

“It’s the best name,” Ray argues, “And you can’t insult me and then fold your arms like that, it’s not fair! You know I like your biceps and you’re using them against me!” Brad laughs at him and then starts walking back to his chair, picking his book up from the cushion before he sits down. “Hate when you walk away, but love watching you do it!” He teases, earning himself a solid middle finger from Brad and a muffled laugh from Nate. 

 

Ray is heading back toward the counter when the bell over the door rings again, and this time it is Steve that walks through. “Please tell me you didn’t burn my kitchen down,” he says when Ray rushes him with a hug.

 

“Steve, even if I had I wouldn’t tell you anyway, I’d blame it on Natasha,” Ray says against his shoulder.

 

“This is Steve?” Nate asks from behind them. “Oh man, yeah, Brad you’re definitely going to have to just take this gift on the chin because there’s no way you can beat him in anything,” he continues as Ray and Steve break their hug, and Ray nearly doubles over in laughter.

 

“That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard,” Ray says as Steve looks confused. “Steve, that’s my best friend Nate, Nate, this is my best boss Steve Rogers,” he introduces the two, and Nate waves over at Steve from his table. 

 

“You still owe me a cookie, Ray,” Nate reminds and Ray waves him off, turning back to Steve.

 

He raises an eyebrow as he says, “So, I hear you have a present for Brad, which is hilarious because he’s awful at accepting presents.”

 

Steve looks dumbstruck for a moment before he says, turning to Brad, “If you don’t want it that’s fine, I just saw it and thought of you.”

 

Brad throws a dirty look at Ray, who’s feeling smug, as he replies, “I’ll take it but just…don’t be hurt if I have a non reaction.”

 

“If you had anything more than a non reaction I’d be worried for your mental health, dude,” Steve says, reaching into the bag he’s got slung across his shoulders and pulling out a thin wrapped package, walking over to Brad to hand it to him. 

 

Ray trails after him, genuinely interested in what he could have found that made him think of Brad. “Is it porn? Or even better, is it a dummy’s guide to not being an asshole?” He asks as Brad takes the package from Steve’s hands and begins to unwrap it. “Oh my God, you guys are nerd bros,” Ray says as he realizes what Steve’s gotten Brad. 

 

“Shut up,” Brad says as he touches the spines of the comic books carefully. “Where did you find these?” 

 

“Ebay,” Steve answers, “The one on top is Aquaman eleven, the first issue where Mera is introduced, and the one on the bottom is Aquaman thirty-five, the issue where Black Manta first makes his appearance.”

 

“This is the nerdiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Ray says to Bucky, who has finally joined them with his coffee in hand. “I’m pretty sure if we weren’t here Brad might kiss Steve,” he continues as he sees the look of awe on Brad’s face, a look that doesn’t happen often but when it does it never fails to make Ray smile as well, which he’s now doing even as he feels like an idiot. “Oh! That reminds me!” Ray nearly shouts, and he grabs Bucky by the collar, dragging him down for a quick kiss on the mouth and laughing when Bucky makes a face as he pulls back. 

 

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Bucky complains even as he fights back a laugh, “It’s just a guitar.”

 

“Just for that I _should_ kiss Steve,” Brad says to Ray, and Ray does jazz hands in his direction in response, “But I’m not going to because I don’t need to kiss my friends to appreciate them.”

 

“Well I don’t either,” Ray argues, “It just makes it better, and also I knew it would annoy both you and Bucky, which is really all I strive to do on any given day.” Brad rolls his eyes at him but goes back to smiling at the comic books in his hands. “You enjoy your nerd books while I go back to work,” he says, reaching out to brush a hand across Brad’s shoulders and being pleasantly surprised when Brad reaches up to wrap his fingers around Ray’s wrist gently, holding him there for just a moment. 

 

Ray goes back to work after that, glancing over at Brad and Steve as they talk comic books and not bothering to hide his smile at it. “This whole coffee shop is too gay for its own good,” Natasha says to him a few hours later, nodding to where Bucky is sprawled on one of the couches, his head in Steve’s lap while he and Brad are still chatting, and Ray is almost one hundred percent sure that they’re still talking about comic books. “The only one that might not be is your friend Nate over there,” she continues, pointing to where he’s still typing away at his laptop. 

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure, I’m pretty positive that he has a crush on a dude in a few of his classes. I don’t even know his name, all I know is that Nate calls him three-piece suit, and they really just need to hate-fuck at least once,” Ray says quietly to Natasha, which makes her laugh under her breath. “I still haven’t been able to figure Nate out when it comes to his sexuality, and it’s not something that I just want to ask about.”

 

Natasha nods and says, “Understandable, some people are just hard to feel out like that.” Ray snorts out a laugh and she rolls her eyes at him. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she smacks his arm as she speaks. 

 

“I know,” Ray says laughing, “That doesn’t stop me from laughing at it though. You could _feel out_ Nate if you wanted, just ask Sharon and Wanda first.”

 

“I’m not going to touch your too smart for you friend, don’t worry,” Natasha laughs, shaking her head. “I have my hands full enough with Wanda and Sharon,” She says as the bell over the door rings and as if saying their names conjured them, Wanda and Sharon walk through the door holding hands. 

 

“Ladies!” Ray greets, pushing Natasha out of the way at the register. “Take your break,” He says, shooing her toward the end of the counter, “I got this.” Natasha rolls her eyes but does as she’s told, walking around the counter to hug the two of them, kissing each on the cheek as she smiles. Ray is full of love as he watches them, and he can’t help but smile over at Brad after he tears his gaze away from the women. “What can I get you two?” He asks, as Wanda and Sharon step up to the register. 

 

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato and Sharon will have,” Wanda pauses and looks at her sideways, “Something minty?” Sharon nods at her and smiles as Ray punches in their orders, taking the money that Sharon hands over with a smile, having already punched in Natasha’s discount for the two of them. 

 

“Coming right up,” Ray says as he turns to the espresso machine, pouring the milk into the steaming pitcher for their drinks. They wander over to the table that Natasha has settled at, a foot away from where Brad and Bucky are seated, Steve having inched his way into the kitchen an hour or so before, and Ray hears them join into the conversation that’s being had. Ray takes his time making their drinks, adding extra caramel to Wanda’s and crushing up a fresh mint leaf into Sharon’s for something different. “Here are your drinks,” he says, setting them carefully onto the table in front of them. He goes back to the counter to grab the cookie he put in a paper sleeve, finally giving Nate his promised cookie. 

 

“It’s about time, asshole,” Nate says with a smile as Ray sets the cookie down next to his laptop. 

 

“And to think I gave you chocolate chip,” Ray gasps, covering his heart with his hand as Nate sticks his tongue out at him. “You don’t deserve chocolate chip with salty language like that,” He continues, reaching for the cookie and laughing when Nate smacks at his hand. 

 

“You keep talking about these fucking cookies, it’s about time that I’ve tried one,” He says before he breaks off a bit and puts it in his mouth, and Ray snorts out a laugh again as his eyes grow big while he chews. “This is the best cookie I’ve ever had,” he says to Ray, who nods along. 

 

“I told you it was a good cookie,” He says to Nate before he shouts toward the kitchen, “Steve! You have another cookie convert!”

 

“Always happy to have someone new!” Steve says from the kitchen, and Ray knows that if he could see him he’d have that dopey smile that he gets on his face when someone complements his food. 

 

Ray goes back to the counter to work but not before he manages to harass Nate into stepping away from his laptop to socialize with the group sitting a handful of feet away from him. They’re all still chatting when Ray finally clocks out, dropping onto Bucky’s lap on the couch that he never quite moved away from the whole afternoon. “You’re coming by the apartment later for a little smoke and a little stupid TV, right?” Ray asks as Bucky shifts under him, grumbling about his bony ass. 

 

“Well I was going to, but your tailbone seems to be trying to stab me to death so I’m not sure I should,” Bucky complains as Ray shifts slightly and finally settles in a spot that doesn’t seem to hurt him as much. “But yes, I want to go home and shower first considering I came straight over after throwing my bags in the apartment, but I was thinking I’d bring a pizza? And wings?” Bucky says, and Ray lets out a cheer.

 

“And that fucking garlic bread, oh my god, yes, all the garlic bread,” Ray says and Bucky nods at him. 

 

“Duh,” Bucky replies, and Ray can see Brad rolling his eyes from where he’s sitting.

 

“Hey buddy,” Ray says, waving a finger in Brad’s direction, “You refused to eat pizza for the first two weeks that you were in town, I’m forcing you and Nate to try Killer Pizza from Mars if it, well if it kills me. And anyway, Hanukkah is the holiday of oil right? Well this pizza and wings and garlic bread will have you covered on your oil intake.”

 

Brad shakes his head and laughs. “I don’t think they had deep fried wings and greasy pizza in mind when they came to that decision,” he says as Bucky pushes Ray off of his lap and onto the floor. 

 

“Okay one, rude,” Ray says from his sprawl on the ground, "And two, why wouldn’t they think of greasy pizza and deep fried wings? Hello, those are the two most important food groups.”

 

“I don’t know how you’re not three hundred pounds,” Natasha says from where she’s behind the register, “I swear I’ve never seen you eat a vegetable.”

 

“Vegetables are disgusting, and I was blessed with good genetics,” Ray answers as he pushes up onto his feet. “Now, Brad, are you and Nate ready to head back to the condo or do you two want to hang out here more while I head home and die?” He asks, and Brad pushes up onto his feet as well, nodding over to Nate who does the same. “I’ll take that as a yes then,” He laughs as he watches Nate gather his laptop bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

 

Ray, Brad, and Nate say goodbye to Steve and Natasha, and Bucky stands as well, following them out of the shop and passing by Thor, the tall, blond adonis of the tattoo shop at the end of the parking lot. “I’ll probably be forty-five minutes? Give or take,” Bucky says as they stop by his car, a few spaces away from Ray and Brad’s cars. 

 

“Sounds good to me, homes,” Ray says, reaching out to punch Bucky’s right shoulder as a parting gesture, which Bucky rolls his eyes at as he gets into his car.

 

“So,” Nate starts as they walk toward their cars, Ray watching Bucky pull out of his parking spot carefully, “l see why Brad said you guys are codependent.”

 

Ray sighs, “I would deny it but I do hate lying.”

 

Brad laughs and nudges Ray’s side with his elbow. “He’s a good guy, it’s better that you’re codependent with him than someone else, like Captain America for example,” he says as Ray comes to a stop by the driver’s side door of his car. 

 

“Please,” he says, “Have more faith in my ability to read people than implying that I would ever willingly hang out with Captain America.” Ray unlocks his door with his key as he adds on, “And you’re one to talk, you and Steve are total best nerd friends, he got you old comic books for Hanukkah for God’s sake.”

 

“They’re not _old,_ they’re _vintage,_ ” Brad denies, " _And_ they’re also pretty rare, as far as Aquaman comics go.”

 

“All I got from that was old comics and you being even more nerdy than I ever imagined,” Nate says with an easy grin at Ray.

 

“For that you can ride with Evel Knievel here,” Brad says, pushing Nate toward Ray.

 

“You can bitch about my driving all you want, but who was the one that couldn’t execute a fucking three point turn to get out of an ambush? Not me,” Ray points out, wagging a finger in Brad’s face.

 

He looks amused as he says, “Technically it was you, you were the one driving and you couldn’t do the three point turn to get us out of there before we got lit up.”

 

“That was because fucking Encino Man and the rest of the goddamn idiots don’t know how to do a three point turn, and no one thought to train the Recon Marines how to drive a Humvee in the dark,” Ray complains, which causes Brad and Nate to laugh as Nate opens the passenger side door of his car. 

 

“I'll see you at home,” Brad says as he shakes his head, reaching out to brush his fingertips quickly against Ray’s forearm. 

 

“You’re the worst,” Ray says as he smiles, and he hopes that it translates to _I love you more than I love myself_ , which is how he feels at all times about Brad. 

 

“Back at ya, asshole,” Brad says, and Ray can tell from the look in his eyes that it translated well enough for him to get the gist. 

 

Ray smiles one last time before he slides down into the driver’s seat, watching Brad get into his car as he closes the door. “You two are the best and worst thing I have ever witnessed,” Nate says as Ray turns the car on, and it takes all of his self control to not jump slightly because he had forgotten that Nate was even in the car with him. 

 

“You’re just jealous that you can’t hate fuck three piece suit,” he teases, and he knows he’s hit on something when he glances over and sees Nate’s cheeks redden. 

 

“I am not talking about this,” he says as Ray pulls out of the parking spot, Nate reaching out to turn the radio up to cut off the possibility of a conversation held at a normal volume. 

 

“I’ll get it out of you yet, Nathaniel,” Ray says loudly before he lets the conversation drop, the ride to the condo loud and interspersed with him and Nate singing along to the radio. By the time he’s pulled into his parking spot and the two of them have gotten out of the car he’s already feeling less stressed than he had been at work, and if the bounce in Nate’s step is anything to go by he is too. They are settled into the condo, Ray freshly changed and hair still wet from the shower while Nate is sprawled on the couch, when Brad finally walks through the doors with bags in his hands. “And what took you so long” Ray asks with a grin as he takes one of the bags from Brad, carrying it into the kitchen and setting it on the counter as he peeks into it. 

 

“I stopped at the store for some refreshments,” He says, nudging Ray with the bag still in his hand until he moves out of the way, “That bag is for Nate and I, and this one is for you and Bucky because you guys can’t drink what we are.”

 

“Boooo,” Nate says from the couch, “You’re gonna miss out on the good beer.”

 

“There’s no such things as good beer,” Ray argues, “There’s shitty beer and less shitty beer, good beer is not a thing.”

 

“Yes it is,” Brad laughs, “You’re just a wimp that can’t handle his beer.”

 

“I can! I just don’t see the point of drinking a beer that tastes like shit when you can get a fruity drink with three times the amount of alcohol that tastes a million times better than anything with hops can ever hope to achieve,” Ray points out, rolling his eyes as he takes the twelve pack of mountain dew out of the bag that Brad has just placed on the counter. He continues, “It’s a moot point now anyway because I can’t drink alcohol.”

 

“I respect your ability to actually do what you’re supposed to and not just drink on your medication anyway,” Nate says as he leverages himself off the couch, only just catching the beer that Brad tosses his way as he gets to his feet.

 

Ray watches Brad and Nate crack their beers open and is only slightly envious as he settles for his can of Mountain Dew, popping the top and taking a swig as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. _there’s mount. dew and water to drink if u want something else you should bring it urself,_ he texts Bucky before he peaks in the fridge and sends a second text, _there’s also the coke you left from last time still_. “It’s a struggle every so often,” Ray says honestly, “Sometimes I just want to get drunk but I know I can’t so I just smoke more.” He laughs as Brad rolls his eyes at him. 

 

“At least you’re well trained enough that you smoke on the patio,” Brad says as he drops down onto the couch, Ray follows him so that he can drop onto his lap even as Nate makes a face at the two of them.

 

“You two are disgustingly adorable,” he says as Brad wraps the arm not holding his beer around Ray’s waist, holding him where he is. Ray settles back, scooting so that his back is resting against the arm of the couch and he’s looking at Nate, sticking his tongue out at the other man as he does. 

 

“We try,” Brad says, sounding only vaguely uncomfortable as Ray laughs. 

 

The three of them chat, Brad turning the TV on to something just for the background noise as they wait around for Bucky and the food. The both show up a half hour later, Bucky kicking at the door to be let in. Ray jumps up and gets the door open in record time, grabbing the pizza from Bucky as he lets him into the condo. “Food’s here,” Bucky says as he smiles at Ray in thanks, “I hope everyone is hungry because I may have ordered too much food.”

 

“You know what this means?” Ray asks as he sets the pizza on the counter, taking the plastic bag hanging from Bucky’s elbow and setting it next to the box, “We should smoke before we eat.”

 

“I’m in,” Nate says from his spot on the couch, and it shocks Ray enough that he turns and gapes at him. 

 

“You do know we're talking about pot, right?” 

 

Nate laughs and rolls his eyes, standing up with his beer in hand. “I’m aware that you’re talking about marijuana, yes,” he says easily, “You didn’t think I made it through undergrad and am now  in grad school without getting high at least once, did you?”

 

“But you’re _Nate_ ,” Ray says, and he’s genuinely caught off guard, “You can’t smoke weed because you’re like, perfect.”

 

Brad laughs and Bucky nudges Ray. “Let the man smoke with us,” Bucky says, grinning at Nate, and Ray is amused to find that Nate blushes slightly at the smile. And that’s interesting, Ray thinks as he watches Nate look away from Bucky, as Bucky’s cheeks color as well. 

 

“Alright, I’ll let you smoke with us, but only because Bucky wants you to as well,” Ray says with a laugh as he goes over to the side table in the living room, grabbing his box of goodies with a happy wiggle.

 

“I can’t believe that you’re going to smoke out Nathaniel Fick,” Brad says from his perch on the couch, shaking his head at Ray when he shakes the box in his direction, “I’ll pass, I have to be on active duty in a week and a half so I probably shouldn’t smoke.”

 

“You’re the most boring person in existence,” Ray says dramatically, “But it’s fine, c’mon guys.” He and the other two walk out onto the patio and Ray makes sure the door is closed securely behind them as they stand in a loose circle. “You two, team up on that chair,” he says as he drops down onto the other chair, mentally laughing when Nate drops onto the chair and drags Bucky onto his lap, the two of them glaring daggers at him as they do. 

 

“You should really get another chair out here,” Nate says as Bucky settles himself more on his lap, and Ray is using every ounce of restraint to not just smash their faces together. 

 

Ray grinds a few buds with his grinder as he says, “But then you two would miss out on quality bonding time.” He does laugh now as he’s packing the bowl and he feels a sharp pain in his shin as Bucky reaches out and kicks him. "Just for that, I’m taking the first hit,” he says, waving the bowl in Bucky and Nate’s direction before he presses it to his lips, lifting the lighter to it as he begins to breathe in deeply. 

 

The three of them smoke in relative silence, Nate holding the lighter for Bucky when it’s his turn to take his hits. They smoke through two bowls before Nate taps out, saying, “I’m pretty sure I’m about to be the highest I’ve ever been.”

 

Ray and Bucky laugh, and Ray takes the bowl back from Bucky as he takes his phone out, sneaking a picture of Bucky laughing on Nate’s lap and sending it to Steve with the caption, _okay what if i get your boyfriend another boyfriend??????? thoughts???? feelings???? ideas?????_ The three of them get up, Bucky holding his hand out to give Nate a boost, walking back into the condo together and Ray is amused to see that Bucky and Nate only drop hands when they reach the carpet of the living room. 

 

“I started eating without you,” Brad says around a mouthful of pizza, looking over his shoulder, and Ray would be annoyed but with sauce around his mouth Brad looks less intimidating than he ever has, and he’s feeling more in love than usual as he looks at him. 

 

“You’re the worst,” Nate says as he walks past Ray and into the kitchen, making sure to knock their shoulders as he passes. 

 

“The plates are—” Bucky starts talking as he walks into the kitchen, and Ray tunes him out as he leans over the couch, pressing his forehead against Brad’s shoulder as his chest presses against the couch. 

 

“What’s up?” Brad asks after he finally swallows the food in his mouth, “This pizza is really good by the way.”

 

“Right? And it’s nothing really, but I’m pretty sure that Nate and Bucky have crushes on each other,” He says quietly, furtively glancing over his shoulder as he speaks.

 

“But…Steve?” Brad says, and Ray laughs slightly at the offended look on his face, “Bucky and Steve are disgustingly in love, aren’t they?”

 

“They are,” Ray agrees, “But I also think that Bucky and Steve might be more like Natasha and Sharon than they are like us.”

 

“You kids these days with your free love and devil’s lettuce,” Brad says sounding amused, and Ray snorts as he presses a kiss to Brad’s cheek. “Go get food,” he adds as Ray’s stomach grumbles loudly. 

 

Ray sighs and stand up straight, passing Bucky and Nate on their way back into the living room as he grabs himself a slice of pizza, some wings, and the rest of the garlic knots. “I’m eating the rest of the knots,” he announces as he steps into the living room, dropping down onto the couch next to Brad. 

 

“We left them for you,” Bucky says with a grin before he digs into his slice.

 

“This is the best pizza I’ve ever had,” Nate says around a mouthful of said pizza, “Weird store name, but amazing pizza.”

 

They chat about Bucky and Steve’s trip back east while they eat, Ray harassing him for having already taken Steve home to meet the family, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He wipes a hand off on sweats, ignoring the pointed look that Brad throws at the napkin just off his lap, and wiggles his phone out of his pocket. He sees it’s a text from Steve, and he braces himself slightly as he opens the message. _they’re cute ;) my thoughts aren’t exactly pg, my feelings are along the lines of YEAH, and my idea is that you should take as many pictures of them together as you can and send them my way for….science!_

 

Ray snorts at the text and glances over at where Bucky is sitting on the floor, in the middle of telling a story about Steve and his niece Emma baking cookies for Santa, and snaps another picture, framing Nate’s laugh and Bucky’s smile on the screen before he sends it. He sends the picture with the caption, _bucky always looks so happy talking about you i want to D I E!! so cute_. Since he has his phone out he sends a quick text to Bucky even though he’s just across the room, teasing him, _you have a cruuussshhhhh and so does he and it’s so cute ps steve thinks you sitting on nate’s lap is adorable,_ he also attaches the picture that he took earlier to the text, knowing he’ll get hell for it but not caring as he finishes up his garlic knots. Bucky is finishing up his story as he checks his phone, nearly choking in the middle of a sentence as he reads what Ray wrote, throwing him a glare to end all glares as he wraps up his story.

 

Ray grins at Bucky and then starts in on his slice of pizza as Nate asks Bucky about his upcoming surgery because, “Ray said you’re getting a sick ass robot arm but I don’t trust Ray as far as I can throw him half the time so…”

 

Ray rolls his eyes and stops chewing long enough to stick his tongue out at Nate as Bucky says, “I suppose he’s right, it is an arm made out of titanium so it does look vaguely robotic. Here—” He cuts himself off as he does something on his phone, and Ray assumes he’s pulled up the picture of the arm that he sent to him what seems like forever ago now. 

 

He must have because the look on Nate’s face is the same one that Ray made when he saw the arm for the first time, dazzled by the shine and amazed that something that looks so pretty could be functional. “And when do you go in for the surgery?” Nate asks as he looks up from Bucky’s phone, and Ray can see the concern in his eyes. 

 

“The third week of January,” Bucky answers, taking his phone back when Nate nudges it in his direction, “My doctor says the recovery time shouldn’t be too long, but I’m definitely going to need to step up my physical therapy appointments to a couple times a week for the month after the surgery just to make sure that everything that needs to be connected is, and things that don't need to be aren’t getting in the way.” Ray starts to tune them out at this point, having heard all he needs to hear about Bucky’s surgery way more than once, and he leans against Brad’s shoulder as he finishes cleaning off his plate, practically inhaling the pizza and wings he had piled on. 

 

The four of them are quiet, chatting and watching the movie that Ray managed to find on one of the channels, something about the Zodiac killer that none of them are really paying attention to. It’s been a handful of hours since Bucky showed up with the food, Brad and Nate having put a pretty good dent into the twenty-four pack that Brad brought home, when Nate says out of nowhere, “Steve should be here!” 

 

Bucky and Ray are regrettably sober, and they share a look as Bucky takes his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll see if he’s free,” he says to Nate, who has been on his back in the middle of the floor for the past ten minutes, staring at the ceiling. Ray is almost surprised when Bucky moves his thumb over the screen of his phone and then brings it up to his ear as he says, “Hi, love, Nate was wondering if you wanted to come by and hang out with all of us?”

 

“There’s beer!” Nate yells in the vague direction of Bucky, and Ray laughs at him as he grabs his stash box, packing another bowl and waving it in Bucky’s direction. He gets a nod from the other man and the two of them stand up, Ray leaning down to kiss Brad quick and dirty, going out onto the patio. 

 

“Yes I do want you to come,” Bucky is saying to Steve, rolling his eyes at Ray as he drops down onto the chair he’d sat in earlier. “Yes he’s—Well I don’t know it's just— _yes,_ but—oh, _oh_ ,” Ray isn’t exactly sure what they’re talking about, but if he was a betting man he’d put money down on the obvious flirting between Bucky and Nate, and the pictures that Ray has maybe been sending to Steve throughout the evening, that last one a short handful of minutes ago when Nate had been lying with his head on Bucky’s lap. “He is cute,” Bucky admits, and Ray is amused to watch his cheeks go from a light pink to a fiery red in seconds at whatever Steve says in response. “You know I don’t—I mean _yeah_ , but—it’s just like you're both disgustingly good looking and—We don’t know if he’d even be _interested in_ —No, I haven’t asked, and even if I did he’s still super high and on his way to super drunk so it’s not exactly the best time to ask! Just come over you weirdo and see for yourself,” Bucky finally sighs, and Ray laughs at him as he lights the bowl, inhaling. 

 

“Join the party, Rogers!” Ray yells after he’s exhaled and Bucky laughs at whatever Steve says before they say good-bye, Bucky mumbling that he loves him before he hangs up and shoves his phone back into his pocket, reaching his hand out for the bowl. Ray lets him take a couple of pulls from it before he asks, “So, Steve and you want a little hanky panky with Nathaniel, do you? Or uh, whatever it is you asexuals want.”

 

Bucky laughs at Ray, a full bodied laugh that makes Ray worry that Bucky’s going to drop the bowl before he grabs it from him. “Well I can’t speak for _all_ aces but _this_ ace likes to keep things PG-13 at most, making out and some light over the clothes touching is about my comfort limit. That being said, Steve is uh—well he’s definitely not the same as me, considering he’s not ace at all and is more like…he needs a connection with someone before he wants to sleep with them. Which makes me feel shitty because we have like, the ultimate connection and I’m pretty sure he would like to have sex but I absolutely do _not,_ " Bucky says the whole thing in seemingly one breath as Ray takes another hit off of the bowl. 

 

“Steve loves you,” Ray says as he exhales, “And you love him. It’s obvious and disgusting in the best way possible. I’m one hundred percent sure that Steve wouldn’t even _think_ to look at another person without talking to you first, and I’m sure you’re the same.” He pauses as Bucky nods along before asking, “You’re interested in Nate, right?” 

 

Bucky looks pained as Ray takes another hit before he hands the bowl to him. “It just kind of hit me out of nowhere? I mean I definitely noticed him as soon as I came into the shop today but I was surprised at how much I wanted to get to know him? And talking to him is super easy,” Bucky says honestly, his cheeks pink as he takes his own hit. 

 

“Nate is amazing,” Ray says, “And I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t have a crush on him at one point, before Brad and I were officially a thing, but I really think that the three of you could mesh. I know you told me about that one time before you shipped out for the last time where you had a couple of boyfriends, and everyone was chill about it, so it’s not like this would be your first trip into poly land if you decided to go that way.” 

 

Bucky waves off his offer to finish off the last of the bowl so Ray is lighting up the last of it when Bucky says finally, “It’s not me I’m worried about it’s just…what if Steve ends up liking him better than he likes me, and then I’m just the world’s most awkward third wheel.”

 

Ray laughs as he exhales the last of the smoke from his lungs. “You’re actually insane if you think that would happen, Steve Rogers is batshit crazy about you and I’m one million percent sure that even if you like murdered a puppy he’d still want to worship at your feet,” he says, shaking his head as he and Bucky stand up, Ray tapping the bowl against the railing of the patio gently to get the burnt weed out of it. 

 

“My brain is an asshole,” Bucky says as he opens the sliding glass door for Ray.

 

“Yes, yes it is,” he agrees as he steps into the condo, just in time to hear a knock on the front door.

 

“Is that Steve?” Brad asks from his spot on the couch, lounging across all of the cushions with his beer resting loosely between his fingers on his stomach. 

 

“Let me use my X-Ray vision to check,” Ray says sarcastically before he yells toward the door, “Steve? Is that you?”

 

“It’s the ghost of Hanukkah past,” Steve says as Bucky opens the front door, grinning at him. 

 

“Steve’s a Hanukkah ghost now,” Ray says seriously to Brad as he pushes his feet off the cushion, dropping down onto the couch and letting out a huff when Brad simply puts his legs in his lap. 

 

Ray wants to say something else but he’s distracted by Nate shooting to his feet and nearly tripping over himself as he stumbles toward Steve, throwing his arms wide. “Welcome to the party!” Nate says, and Bucky and Ray laugh as Steve looks vaguely surprised even as he pulls Nate into a hug. Ray laughs even harder when he sees Nate practically go limp in Steve’s arms for a moment. “There’s beer in the fridge and if you ask very nice Ray might share his weed,” Nate says after he’s apparently gathered himself enough to step out of the hug, and Ray is nice enough to stop laughing even as Steve raises an eyebrow in his direction. 

 

“I don’t smoke, but I’ll definitely grab a beer,” he says, and Bucky is already grabbing one out of the fridge for him, handing it over with a smile that turns brighter when Steve leans in and kisses his cheek. Ray’s interested to find that Nate is watching them intently, standing back and watching as Bucky leans in and kisses Steve square on the mouth. 

 

“Nate!” Ray says loudly, seeming to snap him out of the daze that watching Steve and Bucky interact put him into, and Ray understands that because he’s not even interested in either of them like _that_ and even he gets that slightly glazed over look on his face when Steve and Ray are being cute, “Come tell me about three-piece suit!” 

 

He’s covering his mouth so that he doesn’t laugh as Nate lets out a loud groan and comes back into the living room, dropping onto the floor in front of Ray and leaning forward enough that his forehead rests on Ray’s knee. “He’s the worst person in the world, oh my God, we fucked like once and now he yo-yos between acting like he hates me and never leaving me alone! I just wanted to hate fuck and he’s very…weird about it,” Nate mumbles, and Ray reaches out to pat the top of his head as he makes a comforting sound. 

 

“I’m sorry that men are weird,” Brad says, and Nate looks up at him and frowns exaggeratedly.

 

“It’s you college guys that are weird,” Ray says, pinching Brad’s thigh quickly as both he and Nate exclaim in defense of their education. 

 

“I would say I’m offended,” Steve says after he takes a pull of his beer, and Ray has a moment of confusion until he remembers that Steve did say something about going to college, “But I also know how very true that statement is.”

 

Ray laughs, “See! Even a college guy agrees with me! Now you two can’t be offended!”  

 

Steve and Bucky join Nate on the floor, and Ray wants to coo over how adorable the three of them are but he resists instead asking Steve about the protest that’s planned for a few weeks from now. The next hour is full of Steve explaining when and where the protest will be, and who all is going to join them including, to Ray’s surprise, the mysterious owner of the tattoo shop that he still hasn’t managed to sneak a peek of, even during his shifts in the coffee shop. “Wait, is that guy a vet too?” Bucky asks, his head in Steve’s lap and his hand curled just inches away from Nate’s thigh on the carpet. 

 

“Yeah, have you never met Phil Coulson?” Steve asks Ray and Bucky, and they deny in near unison as Steve looks surprised. “He’s former…well, he won’t say exactly, but Natasha trusts him implicitly so I feel like they probably worked together. He’s also an amputee, he lost his left hand just above the wrist on a mission, but you’d never know it to look at him because the doctors that he got to do his prosthetic are _insane_ , that thing looks exactly like a real human hand, but he can’t tell you where he got it done, just that it’s an experimental thing that he only got to be a part of because of who he worked for,” Steve explains, his words slurring slightly as he’s on his fourth beer. 

 

“Do you hang out with _anyone_ that wasn’t a killer in a previous life?” Brad asks Ray as he nudges his side with his foot. 

 

“Clint, the guy from the tattoo shop, used to be in the circus, I’m pretty sure he never killed anyone,” Ray answers and Brad looks at him like he’s grown a third head.

 

“He…was a clown?”

 

“No, it was more like, the freak show part of the circus I think? All I know is that he shoots a bow and arrow like nobody’s business and he’s horrible at remembering to wear his hearing aides outside of the tattoo shop,” Ray answers with a shrug as he and Steve laugh, “He’s a good guy, so I’m pretty sure he’s not been a murderer. Wanda too! She’s too young to have been in the military yet, and as large as Thor is I’m pretty sure he’s never been in the military either.”

 

Steve shakes his head, “Thor was a body builder in a previous life, but he quit when he turned twenty-six because he _wanted change_ , which hey, more power to him, it’s hard to do a career change when you’re as good at something as he was.”

 

“You did it," Ray points out, and Steve smiles at him.

 

“Like I said, it’s hard,” he says with a shrug. “When I first came to Natasha with the coffee shop idea I thought for sure she was going to laugh herself hoarse, but instead she sat down and helped me work out the finances and agreed to come on as a partner. I always knew that she was a good friend, but her agreeing to help me live my dream helped me realize that she’s not only a great friend but also a great person,” Steve says, and it’s the most history on the coffee shop that Ray’s ever heard, but Bucky doesn’t look surprised at all so he figures Steve must have told him at one point. “It was actually Natasha’s idea for the coffee shop to be so openly political, I wanted a way to express how I was feeling but I thought that my shop should be politics frees. She was the one that told me that it was my shop and I could do whatever the fuck I wanted to with it, and if what I wanted was to be openly political she would stand with me and beat the shit out of anyone that looked at me sideways,” Steve laughs and shakes his head as he starts running his fingers through Bucky’s hair, “She hasn’t had to do it yet, but I get the feeling that she’s absolutely waiting for it to happen.”

 

“How long has your shop been open?” Brad asks, “I don’t remember it being here when I was first at Pendleton.”

 

“It’s about, oh God, a year and a half now,” Steve answers, looking shocked after he answers, “I didn’t realize it had been that long, wow. I opened it about six months after I officially left the SEALs, and Natasha has been there every step of the way. If anything, it’s more her shop than anything else.”

 

“I’m pretty sure Natasha would beat the shit out of you if she heard you say that,” Bucky says to Steve with a laugh, “You know that store is your baby.”

 

“I know,” Steve agrees, “But if it’s my baby then Natasha is definitely the mother.”

 

Ray makes a face because the phrasing makes him think of Steve and Natasha doing the do which, no thank you. “I want you to know,” he starts, because if he has to have the image in his head he’s bringing everyone else down with him, “That I’m now picturing you and Natasha having sex, and it’s the worst thing I’ve ever imagined.” 

 

The look on Steve’s face as he processes what Ray said is enough to keep him laughing for the rest of his life if he wanted to. “Please,” he says, shaking his head and looking vaguely nauseous, “I love Natasha but that’s so high up on my do not like list that it’s carved in stone and gilded in silver.” 

 

Everyone laughs at that, but Ray’s not distracted enough to miss the way that Nate scoots closer to Steve and Bucky, his shoulder coming to rest against Steve’s as everyone's laughter dies down. “I think I’ve had enough beer,” Nate says out of nowhere, and Ray would be concerned about him but he can see the way that he’s looking at Steve and Bucky out of the corner of his eye and Ray understands what he means. 

 

“There’s water and soda,” Ray says, standing up from the couch to grab himself a refill of soda, “Which would you prefer?” 

 

“Water please,” Nate says as Ray steps into the kitchen, and he sends a thumbs up over his shoulder as he grabs the handle to the fridge. He’s grabbing a bottle of water for Nate when he hears footsteps behind him. “What’s up?” He asks over his shoulder as he see Bucky leaning against the counter.

 

“I’ll take a water too,” he says, and Ray nods and opens the fridge, grabbing two waters and a can of soda for himself before he closes the door with his foot. “If he wasn’t so drunk I think Steve would want to talk to him about it tonight,” he says quietly, taking the bottle that Ray offers him as he avoids eye contact. 

 

Ray sets Nate’s bottle on the counter as he cracks open his can of soda. “I would say sit on it for a few day,” he says, and Bucky looks up at him with shock visible on his face. “I’m not saying _don’t_ ,” Ray emphasizes, “I’m just saying that I would assume you and Steve haven’t really discussed this possibility before?” He stops and Bucky nods his head, looking slightly sheepish, “So talk about this, _seriously_ talk about it, and if in a few days you’re both still on board than I say go for it, but don’t do it just because he’s a new shiny person and you think he’s pretty.” Bucky shakes his head even as he smiles at Ray, and Ray knows that Bucky wouldn’t act on a whim, but he loves everyone involved too much to want to let them fuck anything up. “Get his number, text him, and even if you guys don’t do anything before he has to go back to fuckin’ Harvard there’s no shame in a long distance friendship turned something more,” Ray finishes, reaching out to grab Bucky’s bottle of water from him and opening it for him, waving off Bucky’s thanks as he hands it back. 

 

“Who knew that Ray Person would be the bringer of quality advice,” Bucky teases before he takes a sip of his water. He’s still leaning against the counter as he continues, “Having Steve here makes things easier and harder,” he pauses to let Ray chuckle before he adds on, “They’re getting along very well, and I want to keep touching both of them, which is great because yay the men I like like each other but also is awful because I want them to touch each other too, which is something I’ve never been a part of before.”

 

“I thought you said you had done the poly thing before?” Ray asks, confused.

 

“I have,” Bucky answers, “But it was less of a triangle and more of a V, like I was dating the two of them and they knew about it and were cool with each other, but they didn’t really interact. This time it just, it feels like more of a triangle than anything else? Which is great, but also very intimidating.”

 

Ray lets out a noise of understanding as he reaches out and rests his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Homes,” he says, sounding more serious than anyone that just called someone _homes_ has the right to sound, “You’re smart, and Steve is smart, and Nate is a fuckin’ genius, so I’m sure it’ll go well if this is what you all want.”

 

“I can’t stand you sometimes,” Bucky laughs and shakes his head as Brad steps into the kitchen. “I can take Nate his bottle,” he says even as he looks at the open bottle in his hand. He stands there for a second looking between the bottle on the counter and the bottle in his hand before he tacks on, “…as long as someone can put his bottle in the crook of my elbow.” Ray laughs as Brad gently wedges Nate’s bottle of water against Bucky’s side and Bucky sticks his tongue out at the two of them as he turns on his heel saying, “I come bringing water!” As he heads into the living room. 

 

“Everything all good?” Brad asks, boxing Ray into the corner of the counter and raising an eyebrow at him. 

 

“Everything’s great,” Ray answers, smiling as he straightens up to his full height, tilting his head back slightly to look Brad in the eyes. “You’re drunk,” he says, laughing slightly as Brad frowns at him exaggeratedly.

 

“…Maybe a little,” Brad agrees, and Ray can’t help it, lifting his hands to frame Brad’s face as he thumbs at the sides of his mouth gently. “What?” Brad asks, sounding amused before he tilts his head slightly, pressing his mouth to Ray’s left palm in a kiss. 

 

“I love you,” Ray says, and Brad’s answering smile is almost too much again but he forces himself to not look away even as he hears laughter from the living room. 

 

“I love you too,” Brad says gently, and Ray feels his cheeks heat as he leans in to kiss him, Brad’s hands settling low on his hips as he kisses back. Their kissing turns heated in moments, and Ray has to physically push Brad away from him after a handful of minutes just to breathe and get himself under control. 

 

Brad looks like he’s going to argue, and his hand is curling around the back of Ray’s neck to pull him in for another kiss when Steve stumbles into the kitchen. “Oh God, I ruined a moment, didn’t I?” He asks, stopping in his tracks as his eyes widen. 

 

“No, I mean, it wasn’t a moment any more than all of our moments are moments,” Ray says honestly, laughing at the look on Steve’s face.

 

“That’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard, Jesus,” Steve says, “All of your moments are moments, that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard and I only hate the two of you a little.”

 

“I mean, you’re definitely going to have two boyfriends soon so, you don’t really have to hate us,” Ray says pointedly, and Steve’s cheeks flush red as Brad lets out a laugh. 

 

“Nate’s cute, and nice, and I like the way he treats Bucky so far,” Steve says all in one breath, and Ray shimmies from between Brad and the counter to grab Steve’s shoulders.

 

“You’re the best, he’s the best, Nate’s the best, everyone is the best and you should absolutely get two boyfriends because if anyone in the world deserves two boyfriends it is you and Bucky, mostly Bucky let’s be real,” Ray says, shaking Steve slightly as he continues to blush. “Just don’t fuck anything up or I’ll have to kill you twice,” he ends with a laugh, letting Steve go with a last pat on both shoulders. 

 

“I’d have to help him,” Brad says as he leans against the counter where Ray had been leaning before, “Not only because he’s the love of my life but because Nate is my best friend, and Bucky is practically family at this point.” 

 

Ray looks over at Brad as he finishes talking and sees the serious look on his face, he had no idea that Brad thought so highly of Bucky, but he’s absolutely going to pull that ace out of his sleeve any time he thinks that Bucky needs to be reminded of how awesome he is. “I would never hurt Bucky on purpose, or Nate,” Steve says, sounding so earnest that Ray wants to vomit just a little, still not used to the earnestness that is Steve Rogers, even after all these months of being friends with him. “I really only came in here for some water, I have to sober up if I’m gonna drive home,” he says with a laugh and shrug. 

 

“You can crash here if you need to, if you’re nice Nate might even let you share his bed,” Ray says with a cheeky grin as he brushes past Steve and into the living room, leaving a laughing Brad and a shocked Steve in his wake. “What are you losers doing out here?” He asks as he steps out of the kitchen, his can of soda in his hand as he walks toward the couch. 

 

“Nate’s just telling me about school,” Bucky says, and Ray is unsurprised to find Nate sprawled on the floor with his head in Bucky’s lap, his eyes closed as he takes a deep breath. 

 

“You haven’t killed yourself yet so it must not be too bad,” Ray says as he drops onto the couch, nudging Nate’s foot with his own as he does. 

 

Nate laughs, “It’s great when I’m not thinking about dying, and I love it most of the time, but sometimes I wonder if I should have just done grad school that went with my undergrad programs, not starting what’s essentially a whole new program from scratch.” Bucky and Ray laugh slightly as Nate continues, “Sometimes I think that Iraq would be easier than being back in school, but then I remember all that fucking _sand_.”

 

“So much sand,” Bucky and Ray agree in unison as Brad and Steve finally come back into the living room, both carrying bottles of water. 

 

They all chat about school some more, which is really just Nate talking about the assholes in his classes and Bucky looking properly sorry for him, for a few more minutes before Ray says to Bucky, “You brought your pills, right? So you can just stay here tonight?”

 

“I did, but I also completely spaced that Nate would be sleeping in the guest room,” Bucky answers, looking at Nate apologetically, “So I can always head home before I start really _needing_ to take my pills.”

 

“Nonsense! You and Steve can have the guest bed, I’ll take the couch,” Nate says, waving away Bucky’s attempts at arguing.

 

“Or we can toss you a sleeping bag and all three of you can crash in the guest room,” Brad says as he settles his arm across Ray’s shoulders, “The sleeping bag is probably more comfortable than the couch anyway.”

 

“That’s true,” Steve agrees, “I’ve fallen asleep on that couch before and it’s the worst, you’ll wake up genuinely wishing that you had died in your sleep.”

 

“Just sleep with us," Bucky says, and Ray can see the moment it click in his head what he’s said because his cheeks turn bright red and he looks away from Nate, whose head is still pillowed on his lap. 

 

“Yeah Nate, you should,” Steve agrees, and Ray glances over quick enough to see his lips quirk up in a small smirk as Nate finally opens his eyes and looks between the two of them. If Ray was quicker with his phone he would take a picture of the look that crosses Nate’s face, a mix of disbelief and joy as he sits up, looking between Steve and Bucky as he does. 

 

“Yeah?” He asks, and Ray figures that’s going to be the extent of the discussion tonight because soon after Steve and Nate are nodding off together in a chair, Bucky having pushed the two of them to sit together not long after the offer to share their room for the night. 

 

“I’m gonna tuck Brad in and then I’ll help you round these two up after I grab the sleeping bag, which I would conveniently forget if the bed were big enough for all three of you,” Ray says as he nudges Brad’s side, the taller man having started nodding off against his shoulder not too long after Steve and Nate’s cuddle pile. Bucky laughs as Ray stands up and helps Brad to his feet, tugging him through their bedroom and into the bathroom while saying, “Brush your teeth while I grab the sleeping bag for our trio out there, okay?”

 

“You’re such a mother,” Brad teases, sounding as tired as he looks as he pulls Ray into him. “I love you,” he says before he ducks down and kisses him, Ray’s stomach fluttering like it always does when Brad says it. 

 

“I love you too,” Ray says as the kiss ends, “Don’t forget to take some ibuprofen as well.” Brad rolls his eyes and pushes Ray out of the bathroom as he closes the door behind him, and Ray is laughing as he goes to their closet and grabs one of the sleeping bags from the top shelf, carrying it with him into the kitchen with him as he stops to take his own pills, dry swallowing the sleeping pill and his antidepressant without flinching as he makes his way into the living room. 

 

Bucky has managed to get both Nate and Steve to their feet in the time that he’s been gone, but that’s about as much as he’s managed as they’re standing and leaning against each other, practically asleep while standing. “Come on you fucking weirdos, Ray’s here with the sleeping bag,” Bucky says, moving behind Steve to push him slightly in the direction of the guest room. 

 

“Okay, alright,” Nate mumbles, and Ray can see that he’s finally opened his eyes as he grabs his arm with the hand not holding the sleeping bag. Together Ray and Bucky manage to wrangle the other two men into the guest bedroom and, while Ray’s setting up the sleeping bag, they even manage to stumble into the guest bathroom to brush their teeth. The sleeping bag is spread out on the floor with an extra pillow and a loose sheet draped over top of it when Steve and Nate shuffle back into the bedroom and practically collapse into their separate sleeping zones, Nate curling onto his side in the sleeping bag as Steve drops onto the bed. 

 

“I’ll leave you to it then, you know where everything is and you can always holler if you need me,” Ray says as he grabs Bucky into a hug before he walks out of their room, closing the door behind himself before he makes his way back into his bedroom, where Brad is sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed. “You awake?” He whispers, and Brad shifts on the bed, sitting up on his elbows as he answers.

 

“Yeah, babe, what’s up?” He says, and Ray grins at him over his shoulder as he heads into the bathroom, turning the light on before he pauses and leans against the doorway, facing Brad. 

 

“Just wondering if you wanted to fool around some tonight?” He asks, silently laughing at how quickly Brad nods his head. He grins again and closes the bathroom door, taking his time with his nightly ritual of face cleaning, teeth brushing, and taking a piss before he exits the bathroom while tugging his shirt over his head. When his head pops out of his shirt he sees Brad sprawled in the middle of the bed still, though he’s down to only his boxers and a bright smile on his face. He rolls his eyes and turns the bedroom light off as he makes his way to the bed, casting the room in black as he crawls on top of Brad, straddling his waist. 

 

“You’re going to have to be quiet,” Brad says, ginning up at him in the wane light coming through the window. 

 

“That’s why we’re not gonna go all the way,” Ray replies as he shakes his head, “Strictly pre-butt stuff.” Brad laughs out loud at that, raising a hand up to tug Ray down into a kiss that’s just this side of sloppy. “I promise I can keep it quiet, Sir,” he says teasingly as he breaks the kiss, shifting so that his mouth is pressing against Brad’s jaw in an open mouthed kiss. 

 

“You wouldn’t know quiet if it bit you on the ass,” Brad says laughing as he shifts under Ray, his hips flexing as Ray bites at his throat gently. Ray manages it somehow, getting the two of them off while being quiet, and they doze off tangled together in the middle of the bed, Brad’s head resting on Ray’s chest as they sleep. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing's more fun than a day at the beach in the middle of December

Bucky is barely awake, his left arm aching in places that he doesn’t have anymore, as he hears someone shuffling around in the bedroom. “Steve? Is tha’ you?” He asks, his voice low as he squints his eyes open in the pale light of the morning. 

 

“Yeah, babe, go back to sleep. I’m gonna tell Nate to come up on the bed if that’s okay? The floor can’t be comfortable,” Steve answers, leaning over Bucky and pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

 

“That’s fine,” Bucky answers, wincing as he shifts on the bed, “Can you grab my pain pills? They’re in the back pocket of my jeans, please.”

 

“Of course,” Steve replies, and Bucky must close his eyes again because the next moment he notices is Steve pressing two pills into his palm. He opens his eyes to glance at them before he pops them in his mouth, dry swallowing them as he hears Steve down by the foot of the bed. 

 

There’s some quiet whispering that Bucky can’t quite make out before Nate stumbles to his feet and drops onto the bed next to him. “Steve made me,” Nate mumbles against the pillow and Bucky laughs, glancing at Steve who is standing at Nate’s side of the bed. 

 

“Made you, huh?” Bucky laughs, and Nate mumbles something nonsensical that Bucky takes to mean that he’s fallen back asleep, or is at least close to it. 

 

“I love you,” Steve says as he catches Bucky’s eye.

 

“I love you too,” Bucky says with a tired grin as he feels his eyelids grow heavy again, letting them close as he settles back down against the pillow. 

 

The next time he wakes up he’s pressed to the edge of the bed with a knee in the small of his back, and the sun is shining brighter than it had been when Steve snuck out of the room. His arm isn’t aching anymore, which he’s thankful for as he sits up carefully, not wanting to wake Nate up as he gets up out of the bed. Bucky looks back at Nate and stifles a laugh when he sees the man curled on his side, one hand covering his face and the other tucked under his chin. He’s still grinning as he walks into the living room with freshly brushed teeth and his hair messy, “G’morning, friends and love of my life.”

 

“It’s too early to be that gay,” Ray says from his sprawl on the couch, “There’s coffee in the pot, homes.”

 

“It’s never too early to be gay,” Bucky replies as he heads into the kitchen, grinning at Brad who’s standing at the stove flipping bacon. “The only person that makes coffee better than Ray is Natasha,” he says honestly as he takes the mug that Brad passes him. 

 

“He had some practice from using Rudy’s espresso pot out in the field,” Brad says, and Bucky quirks an eyebrow at him is confusion while he pours himself a cup. “Do you not know the story of that stupid fucking scar under his eye?” He asks as he forks the three strips of bacon from the pan onto the paper towel sitting on the counter.

 

“You love my stupid scar,” Ray says as he shuffles into the kitchen, dropping down onto a chair at the dining room table. “And I got the scar because Rudy’s espresso maker, that we had sitting on a stove top in the tent, blew up like a forty mike-mike and burned the shit out of my face. You should have seen the look on Brad’s face when he walked into the tent,” Ray laughs, and it’s enough to make Bucky laugh as well. 

 

“I can only imagine,” Bucky shakes his head before he takes another sip of his coffee. “Now, I know I said good morning to him but I don’t even think that Steve’s here?” He asks, as he takes the offered piece of bacon from Brad with a smile and a word of thanks.

 

“Your boyfriend is a maniac that decided to _go for a run_ , even though I’m like ninety-nine percent sure that he’s working a hangover,” Ray says around a mouthful of bacon. “He even offered to let me come with! Do I look like a runner, James Buchanan Barnes? Do I?” He asks, almost sounding enraged as he waves the last of his bacon in Bucky’s face. 

 

Bucky shoves his piece of bacon into his mouth and does a short happy dance at the taste as he shrugs. “You absolutely do not look like a runner. But Steve does that, after a night of drinking, I think it’s his way to work the leftover alcohol out of his system,” he answers, and Ray looks like he's been forced to smell something awful. 

 

“I would have gone with him, but I thought if I left Ray alone with you and Nate he would wake the two of you up by fawning over your sleeping bodies,” Brad says, and Bucky laughs as Ray waves him off. 

 

“I would not have,” Ray denies, “I would have fawned very quietly and you wouldn’t have even known I was doing it.”

 

“That’s literally the creepiest thing you’ve ever said to me, Ray,” Bucky says after he nearly chokes on the last of his bacon. He swallows carefully and takes a sip of his coffee before he continues, “And I’ll have you know that nothing happened, Nate collapsed face first on the bed when Steve got him off the floor and then woke me up with a knee in the small of my back, totally sexy.”

 

Ray looks like he’s about to say something smartass-y, Bucky is sure, when the front door to the condo opens and Steve stumbles in looking sweaty and breathing heavy. “You guys and your working out,” Ray says instead of whatever he was going to say before, “I don’t understand how y’all can enjoy it, I feel like dying after.” 

 

“How were you ever a Marine?” Bucky asks with a laugh before Steve leans down and kisses him good morning. 

 

“I’m the best goddamn RTO in the field, homes, they forgive a lot of sins when you can fix a radio with two pieces of duct tape and a paperclip,” Ray says, and Bucky looks over at Brad who nods his head in response to his unasked question. “Plus,” he continues, “I _can_ do the mandatory PT I would just really rather not.”

 

Steve laughs as he grabs himself a cup of coffee and settles down on the chair next to Bucky. “How’s your pain?” He asks Bucky quietly as Ray and Brad start arguing over who’s going to make the french toast for breakfast. 

 

“It’s fine,” Bucky answers quickly before pausing and giving some serious thought to the question, “I mean, it doesn’t hurt anymore, but that doesn’t mean it won’t start up again later.”

 

“Was it your shoulder or…?” Steve trails off as Bucky shakes his head. 

 

“It was phantom pain, the best kind,” he replies sarcastically, taking another sip of his coffee as Steve reaches out and rubs at his bicep gently, just above the amputated area. 

 

“It’s been awhile since that’s happened, hasn’t it?" Steve asks as Ray gets up from the table and goes over to the stove, apparently having lost the fight of who is making the rest of breakfast. 

 

“Yeah, it’s been a few weeks,” Bucky answers, “The doctor said that it could happen more frequently the closer to surgery it gets.”

 

“Tony knows what he’s doing,” Steve says carefully, and Bucky rolls his eyes at him.

 

“I would fucking hope so,” he says as he finishes off his coffee. He’s about to say something else, which would probably piss Steve off, when Nate comes stumbling out of the bedroom, pillow lines on his face and his hair messier than even Bucky’s was when he first came out into the living room. 

 

“Morning, loser,” Ray says from the stove, “There’s coffee and bacon, and I’m making french toast because Brad’s an asshole that won’t make it himself.”

 

“You lost rock, paper, scissors, Ray, I won fair and square,” Brad responds as he leans back slightly in the chair he’s in, taking a sip of his coffee as Ray flips him off and sticks his tongue out in his direction while he cracks an egg with the other hand.  

 

Nate takes the coffee cup that Ray offers him and doesn’t speak until he’s downed nearly half of his first cup. “I’m never drinking again,” he says, his voice sounding strained as he drops into the chair that Ray had been sitting in. “Or smoking,” he adds on as he drops his head to the table with a groan, his coffee sitting right by his ear. 

 

Brad’s phone rings from where it’s plugged into the charger and Ray unplugs it and hands it to him in one smooth motion that Bucky would be jealous of if he didn’t know that it was a complete fluke that Ray didn’t bean anyone in the head with the phone. Bucky stands up to get another cup of coffee, so he’s standing next to Ray when he hears Brad say, “What’s up Poke?” 

 

“Hi Poke!” Bucky and Ray yell over their shoulders nearly in unison, which makes Brad laugh before he responds to whatever Poke said. Bucky’s settling back on his chair when Brad hangs up his phone, setting it on the table next to his coffee as he says, “Poke has invited us all to the beach today, he says he needs to harass Nate at least once while he’s out here.”

 

“Poke does know that it’s the _end of December_ , right? The beach is going to be cold,” Ray laughs as he flips the two pieces of french toast he’s got in the pan.

 

“At least it won’t be crowded,” Bucky says. “So that way you won’t blind anyone with your paleness if you decide to take your shirt off,” he directs this part to Ray, and earns himself a middle finger flicked in his direction. 

 

“I might be pale but I’m covered in enough tattoos that I can get away with not wearing a shirt,” Ray says, which makes Bucky laugh.

 

“Your tattoos are shitty, bro, and you know it,” he says, and Ray shrugs at him as he plates the two pieces of french toast and takes two more out of the bowl where they were soaking in the egg mixture. 

 

“You’re not lying,” Ray agrees, “But that’s what happens when you get tattoos in high school and then can’t find a good artist to fix the shitty ones.”

 

“Natasha keeps telling you to go to Lola’s,” Bucky reminds, “You know that Clint would fix your shit up good.”

 

“I know but…a new tattoo artist is like a blind date, homes, and I’m not ready to fly blind just yet,” he replies as he sets the plate with french toast in the center of the table, rolling his eyes when Brad is the first one to grab a piece. 

 

“You need to get your shit squared away though," Bucky says with a shake of his head as Ray goes back to the stove, “Because your pieces are a mess.”

 

The rest of the morning is quiet, the five of them enjoying breakfast around the table until they break to go their separate ways, Steve and Bucky promising to meet the other three at the beach that Poke chose about an hour from their homes. Saying goodbye to Ray and Brad is as it always is, half assed at its best and more of a see you later than anything else, saying goodbye to Nate is different, Bucky lets his hug linger slightly as he brushes a quick kiss against Nate’s cheek, and he watches as Steve does the same when it’s his turn. “We’re gonna need to talk about this,” Steve says to Bucky as he walks him to his car, “The Nate thing.”

 

Bucky knows his cheeks are as red as Steve’s as he replies, “I really like him, and I get the feeling that you might too?”

 

“I do,” Steve agrees, reaching out to grab Bucky’s hand as he does, “Not as much as I like you though.”

 

“You love me, so that’s hardly fair,” Bucky teases, leaning back against the driver’s door of his car. “It’ll be hard,” he says more seriously, letting his eyes fall to Steve’s hand in his, “I’ve done something like this before just not…an actual three-way as opposed to a me having two boyfriends that are chill about everything but not interested in each other thing.”

 

“I’ve done that as well,” Steve says with a laugh, “Except I had a boyfriend and a girlfriend, and they were cool with it until he wasn’t and it was suddenly an issue. I don’t want that to happen again.”

 

“It wouldn’t,” Bucky soothes, “And I know you wouldn’t. We’re good, the best anyone could be, and maybe we just have too much love for one person to be able to handle at a time which, is hilarious because I don’t see how anyone can love me as much as you do.”

 

“I wish you would stop that,” Steve says with a tisk, “You’re the greatest, and I love you and everything you are. Now, we have to break this love fest up so that I can go home and shower, and you can go home and take your morning pill that you haven’t taken yet.”

 

“Of course you noticed,” Bucky laughs, shaking his head as he pushes up onto his toes and kisses Steve carefully, smiling into it as he feels Steve’s hand on his shoulder. 

 

They break the kiss after a few moments and Bucky laughs as Steve says, “I notice all,” in a weird announcer voice. 

 

“I hate you,” Bucky mumbles before he kisses him quickly one more time.

 

“I’ll drive us to the beach,” Steve offers, “I’ll pick you up about an hour before we’re supposed to meet so that you don’t have to drive.”

 

“I take it back, I love you,” Bucky says with a nod, and Steve grins at him.

 

“Of course you do, and I love you too,” he grins and kisses Bucky one last time before he opens his door for him, closing it after Bucky’s settled into the driver’s seat of his car. Bucky backs out of his spot carefully and waves to Steve, who’s getting into his own car, as he pulls out of the parking lot and begins the short drive toward his apartment. 

 

He takes a quick shower and changes his shirt four times before he settles on a long sleeve tee with a jean jacket over it, along with his tightest pair of skinny jeans and the boots that are a pain to tie but look so cool when he actually manages it. He’s in the middle of trying to convince himself that he's not dressing up for Nate when his phone rings from the top of the dresser, and he nearly trips over his freshly tied shoes in his attempt to grab it. “So who is this Nate and why is Ray sending me pictures of you and Steve cuddling?” Rebecca asks over the phone without him even managing to get a hello out. 

 

“Nate is—wait, how is _Ray_ sending you pictures of anything?” Bucky asks, feeling as confused as he knows he’s got to look as he heads into his kitchen, grabbing the pill he had forgotten to take earlier and dry swallowing it before he continues. “Nate is one of Ray’s best friends, he’s nice and Steve and I like him very much,” he answers honestly, shaking his head as his sister laughs. 

 

“Ray stole your phone one day and got my number from it, he likes to text me updates about you, and also random things about coffee? He’s a very weird man, but I think I love him,” Rebecca says, and Bucky shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s not the point though, the point is that I don’t want this to be another Timothy and Percival thing where you’re crying in my arms and then I have to take down a SEAL and a—what’s Nate?” She asks and Bucky sighs.

 

“He’s a Marine, former Marine, and it’s not going to be another Timothy and Percival thing, okay? Steve and I are solid, and Nate is no more than a common interest right now, nothing has happened between the three of us,” Bucky answers as he hears a knock on the front door, pushing away from the counter he had started leaning on to answer it, smiling at Steve as he waves him in and closes the door behind him. “Becks, Steve and I are on our way out the door right now, we’re going to the beach with Ray, Brad, Nate, and Poke’s family, I can call you later if you want,” he says with a sigh, hoping that Rebecca will let it go.

 

“I’m letting this go,” She says, and he manages to sigh happily before she continues, “But I want to know the second it turns into anything more than a common interest, and I want to know that you won’t be stupid about this.”

 

“We won’t be stupid,” Bucky says before he says goodbye, promising to call her in a few days and getting her to promise him that Emma would get extra story time before bed. “Sorry,” Bucky says, finally looking over at Steve and nearly gaping at the other man’s outfit.

 

“Is it uh, is it too much?” Steve asks, tugging on the hem of his shirt that seems to be a half size too small everywhere, which does fabulous things for his arms and shoulders if Bucky can say, which he can. “I wasn’t sure what to wear and— _you_ look amazing,” He stutters out, reaching out to Bucky as he slides his phone into his pocket, stepping up to press against Steve’s chest. 

 

“We’re ridiculous,” Bucky says as he brings his hand up to curl around Steve’s bicep, his thumb brushing over the soft fabric of the shirt, “But it’s definitely not too much.”

 

“You wore these jeans on our first date,” Steve says as he hooks his middle fingers into the belt loops on either side of Bucky’s hips, tugging him as close as he can as he grins. 

 

“I did,” Bucky admits, “They’re a bitch to get into but they make my ass look amazing.”

 

“They really do,” Steve agrees with a laugh before he ducks down, kissing Bucky deeply as his hand tightens around his bicep. “We should go, now, before I decide to throw you down and ravish you,” he says jokingly as he ends the kiss, “Which really means that we make out until we fall asleep, but who needs specifics.”

 

Bucky laughs and leans up to give Steve another quick kiss before he steps back, out of Steve’s grasp, to grab his apartment keys off of the kitchen counter, grinning when turns and realizes that Steve’s eyes had been firmly glued to his ass. “If you’re good at the beach I might just let you get me shirtless after you bring me home,” he says, laughing when Steve nods his head quickly and opens the door for Bucky, dramatically bowing to let him pass. 

 

They’re quiet as Bucky locks the door behind them and walk the handful of feet to Steve’s car, where Steve opens the passenger door for him. “I love you,” Steve says as Bucky settles into the seat and grins up at him.

 

“I love you too you giant sap, now take me to the beach!” Bucky laughs and Steve closes the door gently and makes his way around the front of the car, settling into his own seat as Bucky manages to buckle his seat belt. They’re driving up the coast on the scenic route because, “I haven’t driven the coast in forever, can we please do it that way. I think it ends up being a shorter drive anyway, mileage wise.”

 

“It might be shorter mileage wise, but definitely not time-wise, you know there’s going to be traffic out the ass, doesn’t matter that it’s December,” Steve says with a laugh, glancing over at Bucky who reaches across his body to touch Steve's shoulder gently. “Put the puppy dog eyes away, James, I’ll take the PCH,” he says as he rolls his eyes, Bucky grinning at him from his seat. And since Steve is being so accommodating Bucky decides to leave his radio alone, letting the classic rock play from the speakers as they drive up the coast, chatting casually through the entire drive. 

 

“We should probably talk about it,” Bucky says when they’re about fifteen minutes out, his phone chiming with a text from Ray telling him that everyone else is already there. “Nate, and the thing that’s not a thing yet but _could be_ ,” he continues as Steve lets out a sigh, merging off of the freeway and back onto city streets. 

 

“We should,” Steve agrees, and he uses the stop at the red light to glance over at Bucky as he says, “This is definitely something that needs to be discussed before anything happens.”

 

“You like Nate, right?” Bucky asks, and Steve nods his head in agreement, “And I like Nate. Which is always the important part in a three-way, that all parties involved like everyone else.”

 

“According to Ray, Nate’s into the two of us, so we’re good on that end,” Steve says as the light turns green, peeling his gaze away from Bucky, “But he also seems too shy to say anything before either of us will, and you know that if we don’t say something soon _Ray_ will, because he’s a monster.”

 

Bucky laughs, “You’re right,” he agrees, “And inviting the third is the hardest part of any group thing, especially when there’s not actually sex on the table, on my end at least.”

 

“Sex doesn’t have to be on the table at all for anyone, if you’re not comfortable with it,” Steve says carefully, reaching a hand over to squeeze Bucky’s knee, “It’s all about you.”

 

“Don’t be such a nerd,” Bucky says, reaching down and squeezing Steve’s hand with his as he adds, “I appreciate that thought, but I wouldn’t stop you two from having sex if that’s what you want. Just know that…it’s not what I want. But I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to want it just because I don’t.”

 

“Sex uh, isn’t that much of a big deal for me. I mean, I’ve had thoughts but honestly it’s more about how much I like the other person, or people in this case, and I know that you don’t like sex so I would never ask you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. I also don’t want to say that I _won’t_ have sex with Nate because, I mean, I don’t want to right now but I also don’t know him that well, when I get to know him better who knows, I might want to have sex with him. However, you’re always going to be my number one,” Steve says as he pulls into the parking lot for the park that they’re meeting at, pulling into a space that’s right next to Ray’s car. 

 

“Talk like that ruins poly relationships, Mister Rogers,” Bucky says, his tone serious, “You can't go into a relationship with more than one person starting out by saying that one person is already more important than the other, that’s what ruins things.”

 

Steve squeezes his knee one last time before he stops touching Bucky, the hand he was resting on his leg now being used to shift the car into park and take the key out of the ignition. “That’s true, but I also don’t want you thinking that I’m agreeing to this simply because you don’t like sex, or because you think that I think you’re not enough, because you are. You’re more than enough for me, and I would love to spend my days with only you, so I don’t want you to think that this is some kind of, consolation prize for myself or something, I want you to know that I’m willing to do this because I want to, and because you want to, and if either of those two things change than I am willing to stop trying to pursue Nate, because I might like him, but I _love_ you,” Steve says this carefully, grabbing Bucky by the chin gently to get him to look in his eyes, “And I don’t want you to think that’s ever going to change.”

 

“You’re gross,” Bucky mumbles as he smiles, “I love you too, and I don’t want you to think that I’m not happy with just you either it’s just…this feels like it’s right? Like Nate is supposed to be here with us, and I don’t want to pass up another moment in my life. I’ve passed on too many since I came home because of anxiety, or pain, and I’m sick of letting what happened to me control my life.” Steve smiles at him and, reaching down to unbuckle Bucky’s seatbelt, tugs him into a short kiss, the center console digging into Bucky’s side as he feels himself pulled over it slightly. 

 

Bucky is just getting into the kiss, relaxing into it, when there’s a knock on the window that scares the fuck out of the two of them, Bucky accidentally biting Steve’s lip which makes him yelp and break the kiss. “Oww,” Steve says, bringing a hand up to press against his bottom lip, and Bucky would be sorry except the look on Steve’s face is too good to not laugh at, which he does as he turns to the door to find Ray standing outside of the car, laughing if his doubled over form is anything to go by. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says even as he’s laughing and opening his door, stepping out into the chilly air and tugging the bottom of his jean jacket down as Ray looks up from his position of laughter, doubled over in front of the car. “You’re an asshole,” he says to Ray as Steve gets out of the car as well, “I bit Steve’s lip and it’s entirely your fault.”

 

“Nate will kiss it better,” Ray says as he straightens up, still laughing.

 

“Speaking of, stop spying on me for my sister, you dill hole,” Bucky orders as Steve opens the trunk of his car, and Bucky steps back to stand next to him, bumping their hips together as Steve hands him two towels to carry. 

 

“I’m not _spying_ on you, I’m simply texting her new and updated information as it becomes available to me,” Ray denies, grabbing the cooler that Steve holds out in his direction and letting out a sound of discomfort when he catches the full weight of it, “Rebecca is a gem, much better than you, asshole.”

 

“She is," Bucky agrees as Steve closes the trunk of his car and shoulders the small case of water that he brought, “Doesn’t mean she needs to know every little thing that happens in my life.”

 

“You trying to tell me that you weren’t going to tell her anyway?” Ray teases as he and Steve flank Bucky, the three of them walking down to the beach.

 

“I’m not saying _that_ ,” Bucky denies, “I’m just saying that I should have been the first one to tell her, not you.”

 

“Well if I ever decide to do a three way I will make sure that you are the one that tells Rebecca for me,” Ray promises, which makes Bucky laugh and shake his head.

 

“As if that would ever happen,” he says as he spots Brad and Poke a little further down the beach, Poke’s daughter sitting high on Brad’s shoulders as her laugh is heard all the way where they’re currently standing. “Are you and Brad ever going to want kids?” Bucky asks Ray, and Ray’s cheeks turn bright red as he looks away from Brad and the baby.

 

“He thinks _marriage_ is a joke, I haven’t even asked about children,” Ray says quickly, shifting his grip on the cooler he’s holding, “I can’t imagine he’d want one though, and I don’t like the idea of raising a child up to be a soldier, which is what would happen with Brad being as entrenched in the Marines as he is.”

 

“Do you think he’ll ever get out?” Steve asks as they near their group.

 

“Not any time soon” Ray answers, “He loves it nearly as much as he loves me, and since I would never ask him to choose between us, I’ll have to deal with it until he decides to drop the Marines.”

 

They’re nearly to the group when Poke calls out, “There’s the one armed bandit and his baker boyfriend!”

 

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Ray calls back as Bucky waves as best he can while holding two large, folded towels in his hand. 

 

“Might as well be,” Poke replies as Bethany starts kicking at Brad’s chest and yelling to be put down. As soon as her sandaled feet touch the sand she’s off like a rocket and plowing straight into Bucky, yelling happy sounding nonsense as she wraps her arms around his waist. 

 

“Bucky!” She yells, and he hands the towels over to Poke, who’s stopped in front of them before he bends down and swoops her up with his one arm.

 

“Hello, Bethany,” he greets, laughing as she smiles a big, mostly gummy, smile at him and then wiggles to be let down again, running off toward where her mother, Johanna, is sitting under an umbrella with Antonio Jr held to her chest. 

 

Bucky and Steve greet everyone before they set the stuff they brought with them down next to where Johanna is sitting, alone with Antonio Jr again as Steve takes the towels from Bucky and lays them out on the sand. “Hello, boys,” Johanna greets quietly, shifting Antonio Jr in her arms to bring one hand out to clasp first Bucky’s hand and then Steve’s. “AJ is not feeling too social today, but Bethany is more than making up for that,” she says with a laugh as the three of them glance over to where Bethany has dragged Nate into the water, up to his knees as she splashes excitedly. 

 

“I’m glad you guys could come out,” Bucky says as he reaches out carefully and squeezes AJ's foot, “It’s nice to see you guys after the hectic holidays.”

 

“Antonio’s parents came down for Christmas,” Johanna says, grimacing, “They only left yesterday and let me tell you, I was ready for them to go home the minute they showed up. His mother did the thing she always does, passive aggressively pointing out how nice the house would look if it was clean.” Bucky grimaces with her as she shifts AJ in her arms again before she holds him out, “Can you hold him for a second?” 

 

“I can,” Steve says, swooping down and grabbing AJ from Johanna, swinging him up into the air and earning a giggle for his troubles. “I’m sorry that they were like that,” he adds on as he settles AJ on his hip, smiling at Bucky as he does. 

 

“They’re always like that,” she waves off his apology and stretches her arms above her head before she holds them back out, and Steve places AJ in her arms carefully. 

 

The rest of the afternoon is spent enjoying the overcast day on the beach, Bethany yelling any time she touches the water, or the water touches her, and splashing anyone that gets near her. It’s after they’ve finished the hot dogs and hamburgers that Poke grilled using a small grill that Bucky and Steve finally get some time alone with Nate, who is covered in damp sand. 

 

“You’re really good with Bethany,” Bucky says with a laugh as Nate brushes as much of the sand off of himself as he can. 

 

“I have a bunch of cousins,” Nate replies, and Bucky feels bad enough about him being covered in sand that he reaches out and brushes Nate’s shoulders and back clean for him. “They’re not as rambunctious as Bethany, but dealing with a Ripped Fueled Ray is about as close as you can get to a hyperactive two year old,” he adds on with a laugh as Bucky cackles. 

 

“I can only imagine, Ray’s enough of a handful without being hyped up on Ripped Fuel,” Steve says with a shake of his head, “You must be blessed with the patience of a saint.”

 

“More like the ability to ignore people until I need them for something,” Nate denies, shrugging his shoulders as he drops down onto the sand, sitting next to Steve. 

 

Bucky moves his towel so that it’s crossing Steve’s before he drops down onto it, crossing his legs and looking between Nate and Steve. “Steve and I want to talk to you about uh—about something,” he says, stuttering over exactly what they want to talk about and earning himself a look of fear from Nate. 

 

“Oh God," Nate says, sounding embarrassed, “You guys have noticed the uh, the crushes haven’t you? I didn’t mean to get a crush on either of you but you’re both awesome and the way Ray talks about the two of you it sounds like you’ve hung the fucking moon, and you’re both very _pretty_ and I’m just—I’m gonna stop talking now, and go.” He cuts himself off as he plants his hands into the sand, about to push himself into standing until Steve and Bucky both reach out and grab his wrists, one held by each of them. 

 

“You didn’t even let us say anything,” Steve says gently, glancing around and seeing that everyone else is plenty distracted by Bethany holding court over by her sand castle in progress. “Bucky and I _do_ want to talk about a crush, but it’s more like the crush that _we_ have on _you_ , as in both of us have a crush on you,” he explains, and Bucky would laugh at the look on Nate’s face if he wasn’t so nervous. 

 

“That’s uh—not what I was expecting in the slightest,” Nate says, settling back down onto the sand and looking between Steve and Bucky, “So you both want…me?”

 

“Well yes, and no,” Bucky says, and Nate turns his look of confusion on him. Bucky explains, “We both would like to see where this could go, so we both want you in that sense but…I’m asexual, which means that sex is a hard no for me, all the time forever. Well, most of the time, sometimes I’m willing to like stick around while it happens but I don’t want to be…involved. So yes, we both want you, but only Steve wants to have _sex_ with you.” Bucky says it so matter of factly that it must take a moment for Steve to realize what he’s said, because his blush is a few seconds delayed. 

 

“Oh my God,” Nate mumbles, and it hits Bucky that maybe he was too upfront about everything, because Nate has the same look that Ray gets sometimes when something that Bucky has said is too much to handle. “So,” Nate starts, his cheeks bright red, “You both want to…date me?”

 

“If that’s something you’d be interested in,” Steve says, reaching out and grabbing Bucky’s hand in his, squeezing his fingers gently, “You don’t have to tell us yes or no now, just…know that the option is there, if you’re interested.”

 

Nate looks as overwhelmed as Bucky is beginning to feel, and he actually has to close his eyes for a moment to settle his own nerves. “You’re being serious,” Nate says while Bucky’s eyes are closed, “This isn’t some kind of, joke is it? Did Ray put you up to this just because he thinks I need to hate fuck the dude in my class?”

 

“I mean he’s definitely mentioned that before,” Bucky answers, opening his eyes, “But no, this isn’t anything to do with Ray. I think you’re fascinating, and you’re very good looking, and I don’t see why there’s any reason to not try this…if you want it.”

 

“Have you ever done anything like this?” Nate asks.

 

“Yes,” Bucky and Steve answer in unison. “Not exactly like this, for me at least, but enough like this that I know how everything works,” Bucky adds on with a shrug. 

 

“I have done something exactly like this,” Steve says, smiling at Nate.

 

“I need…to think about everything,” Nate says finally, looking between Bucky and Steve, “But I definitely think that you two are amazing and it definitely wouldn’t suck to be able to kiss the both of you, but I need to actually think about this instead of just thinking with my dick.”

 

Bucky laughs and extracts his hand from Steve’s to be able to reach out and squeeze Nate’s knee softly, leaving his hand there as he says, “You take all the time you need, we’re here when you’ve decided. And even if you decide against it, we’re still going to be friends, so there’s that at least.”

 

“Right, yes, good,” Nate says, taking his phone out of the pocket of his shorts and handing it to Steve, “Numbers and emails please, we’re going to need to keep in touch regardless of everything, right?” 

 

“Of course,” Steve says, already inputting his info into Nate’s phone, “Especially since you’re heading back tomorrow, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, my flight leaves at like noon tomorrow,” Nate replies as Steve hands his phone over to Bucky, who takes a few extra moments to input his information into the phone. “I’ll text you guys when I land, if you’d like?”

 

“Yes please,” Bucky answers for them both, “Steve works tomorrow and I have some paperwork that I need to fill out at the hospital for my pre-surgery shit.”

 

“Exciting stuff,” Nate says as Bucky hands his phone back to him.

 

“Totally,” Bucky laughs as he smiles a large smile between Nate and Steve.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter in Erica writes about something without actually writing it out we have: A Protest

“The protest is tomorrow and we haven’t even made signs,” Ray says from his perch on the counter in the coffee shop, the interior lights dimmed in a small attempt to show that the shop is closed for the night. 

 

“That’s why we’re all meeting here, now, to make some signs,” Natasha says as she’s carrying crates with markers and paint in from the storage room in the back of the shop. “It’s not our fault you were too busy crying over your boyfriend going back to England to make your own” She continues, dropping the crates on the floor in the middle of a sad attempt at a circle made by mismatched beanbag chairs. 

 

“I was _not_ crying,” Ray denies as Bucky comes from the back, poster paper held against his side by his arm.

 

“You really were,” Bucky points out, and Ray groans and drops down onto the green beanbag chair.

 

“You’re supposed to be on my side, and besides, look who’s talking mister pining after Nate,” he says, shaking a finger in Bucky’s direction as Steve and Wanda come in from the front door, Wanda carrying a little basket of stuff that Ray can’t make out covered in shadow as she is. “I don’t even know why I’ve agreed to do the protest, Brad asked me not to before he left,” he continues as Bucky drops onto the beanbag chair next to his.

 

“It’s not every day that the Assistant Commandant of the Marine Corps comes out to visit,” Bucky says with a laugh as he spreads the poster paper out in front of him, pushing the pieces around so that they fan out on either side of the crate full of art supplies. “What should the signs say, anyway? Is there a main point to the protest of is it just kind of a protest about whatever you want thing?” He asks Natasha as she settles into a beanbag across from him. 

 

“It’s mostly a whatever you want to protest protest, but I know that Steve is doing it on DADT and I’m pointing out that this is a war fought over blood and oil, and I know a few of our other regulars are protesting the treatment of women in the corps and sexual assault in the corps,” she answers as she grabs a black marker from the crate of pens and a white piece of poster paper. 

 

Steve and Wanda settle on their own beanbag chairs and the group gets to work on their own posters. Ray, after a handful of moments lost in thought, finally decides to protest DADT as well, and grabs the brightest pink poster that he can out of the pile, grabbing a thick tipped black marker to do his writing with. Ray is quickly reminded how bad he is at art and all related things when he looks over and sees Wanda drawing a big, beautiful…well, he’s not really sure _what_ it is, but it looks great compared to his poster that’s off center and misspelled. Which he didn’t notice until just now, and he lets out an angry sigh as he drops back onto his beanbag chair, crossing the hand holding the pen over his face. “What’s wrong with you?” Wanda asks, nudging Ray’s knee with her hand as he cracks his eyes open. 

 

“I fucked up,” he complains, waving in the general direction of his sign and accepting the laughter from Wanda and Natasha at his mess up as par for the course. 

 

“Take this last pink one and try again,” Natasha says, tossing the last pink poster over Ray’s messed up one and waving a finger in his face as she adds on, “Don’t fuck up again though, because we don’t have _that much_ poster paper left.”

 

“You have two good arms, how do you fuck up that badly,” Bucky teases as he looks at the discarded poster, “I’ve never even seen _repealed_ spelled like that in my life.”

 

“I am bad at this, as the kids say, protesting thing,” Ray says with a sigh as he checks the time on his phone before he folds down over his new poster and tries again. Everyone works in relative silence, the scratching of pen to paper the only sound over the muted whispering that Steve and Bucky are doing in their corner. 

 

“So how goes the wooing of Nathaniel Fick?” Ray asks after nearly an hour of working in silence, his poster nearly done in front of him as he looks over at Bucky and Steve, who are lounging in their own beanbag chairs. 

 

Bucky and Steve share a look before Bucky replies, “Is it even wooing if he’s aware that we’re doing it? And it’s going…about as well as you would expect, he’s got a few very thick walls that we’re coming up against.” He takes a moment to shake his head and laugh at himself as he says, “Plus, I’m now worried that I’m gonna lose Steve to Nate, so there’s that.”

 

“You know that’s not how it works,” Natasha says from her sprawl on the floor, her poster surrounded by glitter, “You both are fucking ridiculous in your love, you’re just welcoming someone else into that loving fold. You’re not going to lose _anyone_ to that, so don’t even think it.” She looks over at where Sharon, who came over after work, and Wanda are huddled over Wanda’s poster, markers in their hands. “It’s a great thing, you just have to be completely open to it,” she finishes with a smile, and Sharon looks over at her with a grin that lights up her face. 

 

“I think your poster needs more glitter,” Bucky says as he comes to stand next to Ray, who is adding a few finishing touches to his poster. 

 

“There’s no such thing as too much glitter,” Ray agrees as he grabs a glue stick and a shaker full of glitter, “However, pointing out my lack of glitter won’t stop me from psychoanalyzing you, James Barnes.”

 

“It was worth a shot,” Bucky says, dropping onto the floor next to Ray and picking up his own shaker full of glitter, shaking it where Ray tells him to and laughing when a majority of it ends up in his lap and hair, somehow. 

 

“Everything will be great with you guys as long as Nate doesn’t fuck it up,” Ray says honestly, rolling his eyes at the thought, “And if he does I’ll have to kill him, I don’t make the rules.”

 

“Seconded,” Natasha says from her sprawl on the ground.

 

“No one is killing anyone,” Bucky says, and Steve makes a noise of agreement from where he's still hunched over his sign. “Nate is fine, he’s great, and right now he’s just a very good friend,” He continues, rolling his shoulders before he puts the lid back on the glitter and sets it down next to Ray’s hip. 

 

“That you want to kiss,” Wanda says loudly, earning a laugh.

 

“Yes, thanks Wanda, I had almost forgotten,” Bucky says with an eye roll, and Ray is nearly laughing too hard to put the lid back on the glitter, but he somehow manages it before he drops it to the ground. Everyone finishes their posters by the time Ray’s phone reads midnight, and he’s helping Steve and Bucky put away the craft supplies when his phone rings in his pocket, startling him. 

 

“Sorry guys, I have to—” He says, grabbing his phone and answering the call with a quick, “Hello? Brad?”

 

“Hey Ray,” Brad sounds exhausted as he speaks, “I’ve landed and I’m on my way to the base right now, got word that we’re oscar-mike first thing in the morning when I landed, so I wanted to call and let you know that this is the last phone call for a while.”

 

“Yeah uh, right,” Ray has to clear his throat before he can speak again, “Be safe, and contact me when you can. I love you.”

 

“Me too,” Brad says, and it’s enough to make Ray smile, “From the word I got this should be a pretty easy ship-out, so hopefully I’ll have time to sit and write you something.”

 

“Please,” Ray replies, and they hang up, Ray saying that he loves him one last time before he hangs up, shoving his phone back into his pocket and wiping angrily at his eyes after his hands are free.

 

“Everything okay?” Bucky asks, and Ray throws himself into a hug, wrapping Bucky up in his arms as he tries to hide his face.

 

“He landed, and they’re shipping out tomorrow,” Ray answers as Bucky’s arm wraps around his shoulders, pulling him in tighter. “I just have a feeling that I can’t shake,” he mumbles against Bucky’s shoulder, relaxing into the hug just as Steve joins in, wrapping the two of them in his arms. 

 

“Brad will be fine, he’s got Aquaman on his side,” Steve says, and Bucky and Ray laugh at him, Ray rolling his eyes as he finally manages to stop leaking tears. 

 

“He actually took the fucking comics with him.” Ray says as the hug ends, wiping at his face one last time as he continues, “It’s just weird, I don’t know the guys he’s over with so I can’t know that they’ve got his six, no matter how well I know he’s trained them.”

 

“It’ll be fine,” Bucky says, sounding sure as he grabs Ray’s shoulder tightly, shaking him just a bit, “I’ll be damned if he doesn’t just like, eat a Haji if he gets into any trouble.”

 

“I don’t think Brad will eat someone, but it’s good to know that you think he could,” Ray laughs, shaking off Bucky’s hand from his shoulder. “I’m okay guys, I just…I was having a moment,” He tries to shrug it off as he grabs his car keys from his pocket, waving them at Steve and Bucky. “I’ll be here at 6 AM to open the shop, and then someone’s coming to cover for me during the protest, right?” He asks as he backs away toward the door.

 

“Yeah, Bianca is gonna cover for you, and then after the protest if you want to work some more you can, but we were thinking you could just take the rest of the day off since you’re opening,” Steve answers, waving as Ray pushes his way out of the door, “Be safe!” 

 

“Love you guys!” Ray yells, getting the same in return as he exits the coffee shop, tossing his keys up into the air and catching them as he makes his way to the car. The drive home is thankfully short, managing to do what he never does and hit every light green, which works for him because he wants to get home and smoke a bowl before he has to hit the sack. He gets home and finishes his bowl in record time, dry swallowing his pills as he packs it before he heads out onto the patio to smoke, dropping down onto one of the chairs and kicking his feet up on wall surrounding the patio. 

 

He’s nearly done with the bowl when his phone rings, making him scramble to get the phone out of his pocket. “Ray, I need help,” Nate’s voice is loud against his ear, and even Ray can tell that he sounds stressed. 

 

“What’s up?” He asks, dumping the ask out of his bowl and wrinkling his nose as he stands up, “God, it's like three in the morning? Why the hell are you still up?”

 

“I have had a lot to drink,” Nate admits, “I was at a party with three-piece suit, and we were about to fuck, but I couldn’t because I just kept thinking about Steve and Bucky. What is this?”

 

“Well buddy,” Ray says, laughing slightly as he continues, “It sounds like a Steve and Bucky shaped hole in your consciousness spoke up and decided for you that hate-fucking three-piece suit isn’t in your cards anymore.”

 

“But why? That would be so much easier than whatever Steve and Bucky are thinking of,” and Ray knows that Nate is three sheets to the wind because he can absolutely detect the whine in his voice. 

 

“Life is hard, homes, and the best parts of life are even harder,” he soothes, “If it helps you any, Steve and Bucky are very much in like with you, but they also don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

 

“But I do! I want to! It’s just very…” Nate trails off and Ray can almost picture him lying in his bed, kicking his feet around in frustration, “They’re too good, ya know? I don’t know how anyone can expect to deserve even one of them, and they _both_ want me.”

 

Ray shakes his head as he walks back into the living room, locking the sliding glass door behind him before he heads over to the kitchen table, where he left his stash box out and sitting in the center of the table. “You guys man, you’re one of the best people I know, Nate, and if anyone deserves the amazingness that is Bucky and Steve it’s definitely you, I can’t think of a better fit for those two than you,” he says honestly, and he would roll his eyes at how loving he sounded if he didn’t know that it was exactly what Nate needs to hear at the moment. “I have to get up for work in a few hours, but I want you to sleep on it, and if you still feel like you’re having a breakdown tomorrow, give me a call. The protest is supposed to be going from noon until five, but who knows how long it will really go,” he adds after a few moments of listening to Nate breathe down the line.

 

“Be safe, love you,” Nate mumbles, and Ray laughs, returning the love before he hangs up the phone and plugs it into the charger, leaving it on the kitchen counter as he heads into his room to change and get ready for bed. 

 

———

 

The next morning, a mere five hours later, it’s nearly impossible for Ray to wake up fully, and he’s nursing a hot coffee as he unlocks the doors to the shop for their 6 AM rush. It’s ten minutes later, as Ray is pulling the shots for a Captain, whose name tag reads ‘Fury’, which is probably the coolest name that anyone in any branch of the military can pull off, that Bucky stumbles into the shop, yawning. “What are you doing here?” Ray asks over the counter as Bucky drops down into his usual chair.

 

“Nightmares, so I gave up on sleeping and decided to bother you,” Bucky answers as Ray hands the Captain his drink, cheerfully inviting him to the protest later in the day and getting an eye roll in return as the Captain turns on his heel and leaves the shop, drink in hand. 

 

“At least that one didn’t dump his drink after I invited him, which happened with the first guy,” Ray says, forcing a smile as he comes around the counter to lean against the front, catching Bucky’s eye. “So, nightmares, huh?” He asks, opening the floor to discussion if Bucky so chooses. 

 

“Nothing too bad just, bad enough that I’d rather not have to fight to sleep,” Bucky answers, “The closer my surgery gets the more on edge I am it seems.”

 

“But the surgery is going to go fine, Stark knows what he’s doing, right?” Ray asks as the bell over the door rings and another customer walks in, meaning he has to jump behind the counter and take care of her while Bucky sits on his question. Again he lets the customer know about the protest, but she seems interested and so he talks about it while he’s making the drink, letting her know when and where it will be. By the time she’s got her drink and is leaving the coffee shop Ray is more than ready to hear Bucky’s reply. 

 

“Stark is a good doctor, Steve trusts him, and I trust the other Doctor, Doctor Banner, enough that I’m not feeling like the surgery is going to end in my untimely death it’s just…I don’t like the idea of being put to sleep just for this surgery,” Bucky says finally, sighing as the bell over the door rings again. 

 

“It’ll be fine, and you’ll have a cool ass robot arm at the end of it all,” Ray says, trying to sound soothing but really only managing to sound like the tech nerd that he really is.

 

Bucky laughs as Ray takes the new customer’s order. “I’m still not going to let you poke around in it after I have it,” he says, ignoring the noise of argument that Ray makes as he continues, “And I’ve already told Stark that if you ask to poke around in there while I’m still knocked out that he is to say no and bodily remove you from the room.” 

 

“I am offended,” Ray says, holding a hand to his heart as he pulls the espresso for the customer’s drink, “I would never try to fuck with your robot arm while you’re unconscious.”

 

“You would,” Bucky corrects, laughing as Ray shakes his head in disappointment, “Which is why I’ve also told Steve to be on the lookout.”

 

“You’re a monster,” Ray says, sounding sad as he hands the drink over to the customer, smiling when he says that he’s going to be at the protest later in the day. “That’s great! We’ll see you there, then,” he responds to the customer, waving at him cheerily as he leaves the shop. “I can’t believe you think I would take advantage of you,” Ray says to Bucky, waving his hands in the air as he continues, “While you’re asleep, that’s fucked up.”

 

“It’s not that I think you’d take advantage of me, it’s just that I know how hype you are about this arm, and I need it to be known that you’re not to touch it until I’m fully awake and lucid,” Bucky corrects, shaking his head with a laugh. “I love you, but you love electronics more than you love me, I think,” he adds, earning himself a roll of his eyes and a middle finger from Ray. 

 

“I love you too, and maybe that’s true, but you’ll never know,” Ray replies, trailing off as the bell over the door dings again, and this time a group of five is walking through the doors. He sighs and says a quick curse under his breath before he greets the customers as cheerily as he can this early in the morning. 

 

The rest of the morning is just as busy, people coming in and out from the base and the surrounding protest centers that have popped up in preparation of the Assistant Commandant coming into town. He’s relieved when Bianca shows up and takes over, letting him take his first and last break of the day as he drops down onto the chair across from Bucky, who had been nodding off all morning. “Ready to protest?” Bucky asks as Ray settles down onto the chair, “Even though your boyfriend told you not to.”

 

“He just doesn’t want it to get back to anyone that he’s hanging out with someone that protests, it’s not even about the _boyfriend_ thing, it’s about the optics on his end, which is stupid,” Ray replies, shaking his head as he pulls his legs up to his chest, resting his feet on the seat cushion.  “I have a rolled joint in my car if you want to smoke before we head over to the protest, I’ll drive us,” He offers after a few moments of silence, peeling his eyes that had closed open to look at Bucky.

 

“I knew you were my best friend for a reason,” Bucky says with a happy wiggle, and Ray laughs as he adds, “I’ll drive us though, so that you can catch a few Zs on the ride over.”

 

“You know it’s only a ten minute drive, right?” Ray laughs, accepting the offer as he and Bucky finally stand up from their chairs. “Bye Bianca! If you need any help you can probably call me, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll answer it,” he says this over his shoulder as he and Bucky are heading toward the door.

 

“I know, you’re useless,” Bianca yells back, and Ray can hear her laugh as he lifts his hands and gives her a double thumbs up as he elbows the door open, holding it for Bucky. 

 

“You’re the worst,” Bucky says laughing as well as they make their way to his car, Ray peeling off to grab the joint that he’d stashed in his car’s ashtray before he open Bucky’s passenger door and eases down into the seat. 

 

Ray is nearly horizontal in the seat, which is uncomfortable in so many ways, and he says as he adjusts the seat, “Who the fuck was sitting here, Hagrid? What the _fuck.”_

 

_“Steve_ ,” Bucky corrects, laughing, “He’s too tall to sit comfortably in here, and he also passed out on the drive back to his place last night. You should have seen what a mess we were, a one armed man helping a sleepy giant up his fucking stairs.”

 

Ray is laughing too hard to light the joint and so he hands it over to Bucky, holding the lighter up for Bucky while he inhales and lights it. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard,” Ray manages to choke out as he watches Bucky exhale. 

 

Bucky takes another puff before passing it to Ray and turning the car on, driving carefully toward the protest spot and only realizing when they’re halfway there that, “Oh _fuck_ , did we forget the posters?” 

 

Ray is mid inhale and so he takes a moment before answering, letting the smoke curl from his mouth as he says, “Nah, homes, Natasha took them from us because she knew we’d forget them. Because like Bianca said, I’m useless.”

 

“You’re not, you’re the most useful, look at you, able to light your own joint and everything,” Bucky teases as he takes it from Ray as he pulls up to a red light, the parking lot that Steve told them to park at the night before visible in the distance. 

 

Ray thinks for a moment about telling Bucky that Nate called him the night before, worrying over Steve and him, but he decides against it, instead asking, “So, heard from Nate today?”

 

“I know he went to a party last night, so if I had to guess he’s probably sleeping it off. I think it was to celebrate midterms being over? Or a group of them got together and decided to have a party for not failing a quiz? I’m not really sure, but he called me around 8 last night, just before I showed up to start the posters, and he sounded like he was having a great time,” Bucky answers as the light turns green and he hands the almost dead joint over to Ray. “I think he’s overthinking things,” he adds as he manages to find a parking spot near where Ray can see Steve’s hulking form on the makeshift stage that someone must have put together.

 

Ray snorts and takes the last drag from the joint, smoking it to the very end before he responds, voice tight as he holds in the smoke, “Yeah, he does that.” He lets the smoke, and his breath, out slowly before he continues. “Nate is the best guy I know he’s just…he’s also the most brainless smart guy that I know,” he says honestly, looking over at Bucky as he puts the car into park.

 

“That’s unfortunate,” Bucky says with a laugh, rolling his eyes as he looks over at Ray.

 

Ray snorts and feels his phone vibrate once in his pocket, signaling a text. “It really is, when he’s such a good guy,” he says as he takes his phone out of his pocket with one hand and unbuckles his seatbelt with the other, “I do hope he gets his shit together.”

 

“You and me both, buddy,” Bucky says with a sigh as he opens his door, Ray tumbling out of his side as well as he thumbs open the text on his screen as he does. 

 

_plz don’t tell b &s what i said last night i was drunk and sad BUT ALSO i think i’m gonna let myself be wooed??????? maybe?????, _Nate’s text is surprising in how unsurprising it is, and Ray stops himself from snorting in laughter as he rounds the front of the car, pulling up next to Bucky as he contemplates how to answers. 

 

He and Bucky nudge each other with their elbows as they walk toward the stage set up as he sends a reply. _tell them what u loser???? and GOOD DUDE YOU DESERVE ALL THE GOOD THINGS AND S &B ARE THE BEST THINGS, _He types quickly and excitedly as they walk, and by the time they’re catching Steve’s attention he’s shoving his phone back into his pocket and waving excitedly, the blunt finally hitting him. 

 

“Love of my life, Ray,” Steve greets, bending to give Bucky a kiss before he pulls Ray into a loose hug, letting him go and pushing him in the direction of Natasha. “She wants a word with you, and then we’re all going to gather for a few minutes before the official start of things,” Steve says and Ray lets himself be directed toward where Natasha is bent over the pile of posters at her feet.

 

“If you slap my ass I will snap your neck,” she says without looking over her shoulder as he approaches, and Ray believes her enough that he folds his arms across his chest, because he was actually planning on slapping her ass.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ray laughs as Natasha straightens up and finally turns to look at him, “I would never slap your ass.”

 

“Yeah sure, and I don’t have two girlfriends,” Natasha laughs as she pulls him into a short hug, surprising Ray. “Don’t read too much into this hug, I’ve had too much caffeine and not enough sleep,” she explains as she lets him go. 

 

“It’s true, I’m pretty sure she only got like maybe two hours of sleep, and I know for a fact that she’s had four coffees,” Steve says as he and Bucky step up next to the two of them, Steve draping an arm around Natasha’s shoulders as he speaks. 

 

“This is a pretty good turn out,” Bucky says to Natasha as he waves hello, “There’s definitely more people than I thought there would be here.”

 

“There’s a lot of our regulars from the shop, and a lot of our regulars from past protests that we’ve done before. I’m not even sure that some of them know why we’re here, just that we put the call out for protesters and they answered as always,” Natasha explains with a laugh, “Our people are the best.”

 

Ray looks around and does recognize some faces, people that he’s served over the course of working in the shop. “Wait, does that mean we’ll finally get to meet the mysterious Phil Coulson in the flesh?” He asks, bouncing on his toes, “And the rest of the tattoo shop people that I haven’t met yet?” 

 

“Probably not,” Steve answers with a laugh, “Phil is notorious for not coming to these things. Wade and Clint may show up though, Wade loves being an asshole and Clint likes holding signs.”

 

“I’m personally hoping that that college kid that hangs out in our shop comes by, he’s tiny and adorable,” Natasha says, and Ray looks at her in confusion.

 

“The one that Wade wants to bone but can’t even say three words to,” She says, and Ray can picture him in his mind, sweater vests and glasses on his face as he’s bent over one book or another. 

 

“He’s the one that brings his camera in every so often, right?” Bucky asks.

 

“That’s the kid,” Natasha says with a nod, “Wade is balls deep in his love for him but he won’t admit it, and he won’t talk to him.” 

 

The rest of the setting up for the protest goes smoothly, and by the time Steve and Natasha are stepping up to their microphones on the hastily thrown together stage Bucky and Ray are settled in the crowd with their signs as they bounce around the people, saying hello to the ones they recognize. 

 

“This is the weirdest thing,” Bucky says to Ray as the two of them finally settle in a spot closer to the back of the crowd, “I’ve never been to a protest and now I’m dating someone that seems to do them all the time. I hate crowds.”

 

“Well, you’re being a good boyfriend with this one,” Ray laughs, “So maybe the next one you can beg out of and he won’t even mind.”

 

“He kept checking in with me before today,” Bucky says, “So I’m sure if I tapped out he wouldn’t be offended.”

 

Ray laughs and is about to say something but the roar of the crowd as Natasha and Steve wrap up their introductions drowns him out for nearly a full minute. He opens his mouth again once the crowd dies down and says, “Steve is too good for anyone other than you and Nate.”

 

Bucky blushes as he laughs. “He’s too good for me,” he corrects, “He just hasn’t realized it yet so I’m milking it for all I can before he does.”

 

“You realize that you could turn into a fucking brainwashed assassin hell bent on straight up murdering him and Steve would still love and cherish you, right? Because he’s ass over balls in love with you, and it’s simultaneously the best and worst thing I’ve ever seen,” Ray points out, and Bucky rolls his eyes. 

 

“Brainwashed assassins aren’t a real thing,” Bucky says, shaking his head.

 

“That you know of! There could be brainwashed assassins walking around all over the place but we’d never know because _they don’t know_ , dude, I think we’ve stumbled onto something here,” Ray says as he hoists his sign above his head, following the example of everyone else around them. 

 

“If I learn of brainwashed assassins you’ll be the first person I tell,” Bucky says, laughing as he holds his own sign up with his one arm, letting the other edge of the sign rest on the top of his head. 

 

The protest goes smoothly, there’s no fighting and there’s very little police presence which is what surprises Ray the most. He had expected cops to roll up as soon as it started and instead he doesn’t see the first cop car until nearly an hour into the protest. Steve and Natasha are good at handling a crowd, Ray notices as he watches them mingle through the crowd, jumping up on the stage every so often to make announcements with information as it comes to them. The protest lasts until nearly sundown, which is longer than Ray had expected if he’s honest, and by the time he and Bucky, along with Wanda and Sam who joined them a few hours into the protest, manage to make their way back up to where Steve and Natasha are standing he’s exhausted. 

 

“This was one of your bigger protests,” Sam says to Steve and Natasha as the four of them step up to the edge of the makeshift stage. 

 

“How was it down there?” Steve asks as he drops down onto the ground next to Bucky, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in for a quick kiss. 

 

“It was good,” Ray answers, “Lots of love and kindness flowing, I was definitely expecting to have to beat the shit out of some people today, so I’m kind of disappointed that the only thing I could have fought someone over was the fact that they said I didn’t have enough glitter on my sign.”

 

“You’re the worst,” Sam says laughing as he punches at his shoulder, “You shouldn’t wish for violence at a protest.” 

 

“I wasn’t _wishing_ for it, I was just surprised that it didn’t happen,” Ray corrects, “Pleasantly surprised, but surprised nonetheless.” Their group hangs around until the last of the stragglers have gone, packing up their signs and cleaning up the scattered debris that a protest is always likely to leave behind, before Steve invites everyone out for dinner and drinks on him. Everyone agrees, and Bucky nudges at Ray in silent urging. “I can’t guys, I need to get some sleep before I pass out,” Ray says, begging off with a shrug as Bucky and Natasha protest. 

 

“You suck,” Bucky says lightly, even as he looks concerned.

 

“I’m really just tired,” Ray replies, answering his unasked question, “It’s been hard falling asleep now that Brad’s…gone, and last night was just the icing on the cake of shitty sleep. I appreciate the invite, but I have to give a hard pass on this one, honestly, I’ll pop by the shop tomorrow even though I’m not working.”

 

“As long as you’re just tired,” Natasha says, her eye narrowed, “You’re sure you’re okay?”

 

Ray shrugs at the pairs of eyes on him. “I’m fine, I swear, I’m just tired and missing Brad, so a night of good sleep should help sort me out,” he answers honestly, forcing a small smile, “I’ll be good, I just need some time.”

 

With that he accepts hugs from his friends, and accepts Bucky’s offer of driving him back to his car. “I just want to know that you’re okay,” Bucky says as they sit in his car, Ray’s head lolling against the headrest of the passenger seat.

 

“I…will be,” Ray says quietly, reaching over and patting Bucky’s shoulder with a soft hand, “It’s just a lot for me right now, with Brad being overseas and you being about to go under the knife, and my mom calling me every few days to make sure that I’m not dead, and _Brad’s mom_ calling me to make sure that I’m not dead there’s just…a lot going on. I really just need a good night of sleep, that makes _a lot_ of shitty things better.”

 

“Just promise that you’ll talk to me if you need to, and if not me that you’ll talk to _someone_ ,” Bucky says, and Ray would think he sounded pleading if he didn’t know any better. 

 

“Buddy, if I’m gonna talk to anyone it would be you. Or my therapist,” Ray says honestly, “And I promise that I’ll tell you if I need to talk.”

 

“Good, thank you,” Bucky says, smiling at Ray as he pulls up next to Ray’s car in the coffee shop parking lot, “Now go home and get some sleep, text me when you get there! I love you!”

 

“You got it, homes,” Ray says easily, leaning over and hugging Bucky before he gets out of the car, pressing a kiss to his cheek and laughing as Bucky wipes at it with a grimace as he’s standing outside of the car. “Love you too! Drive safe!” He says before he closes the passenger door of Bucky’s car, closing the distance between himself and his car. 

 

He's driving slower than he normally would because he’s not one hundred percent sure that it’s even safe for him to drive with how exhausted he is, so it takes him double the time it normally would to reach the condo from the coffee shop. He texts Bucky a quick ‘ _home all safe & sound_’ as he unlocks the condo door after dragging his tired body up the staircase. Ray drops face first onto the first soft and flat surface he comes across in the condo, which is luckily the couch, and he lets out a long groan as his back pops and cracks. 

 

He shifts enough to grab his phone out of his pocket as it vibrates with a text. _‘yaayyy now eat something and sleep’_ Bucky’s text reads, and Ray groans again as he realizes that the last time he ate was on his only break of the day during his shift. He pushes himself off of the couch and makes his way to the kitchen, sighing happily as he realizes that he has the stuff to make a sandwich, which he does in record time, shoving it into his mouth as he treks back to the couch, this time sitting on it like a normal human and flicking the TV on. 

 

Ray is just finishing up his sandwich when his phone rings, this time with a call. “What’s up?” Ray answers when he sees that it’s Poke.

 

“Quick thing,” Poke says, sounding rushed on the other end of the line, “Johanna wants to know if you and Bucky and Steve want to come down for dinner this weekend.”

 

“Is this because of Brad being overseas?” Ray asks around the final mouthful of his food, “Because as much as I like pity food, I’m pretty much working all weekend.”

 

“Well, Johanna wants me to let you know that you’re welcome over whenever,” Poke says, and Ray nearly rolls his eyes.

 

“So Johanna’s the only one that’s concerned about me?” Ray asks, and he hears Poke let a snort of laughter out.

 

“No way, dawg, I’m worried about you too, I’m just too much of a man to say anything,” Poke admits, and Ray can hear the shrug in his voice.

 

“Masculinity so fragile,” Ray teases as he brushes crumbs from his lap and reclines back on the couch, pulling his socked feet up on the cushions. “Thank you though, I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, genuinely touched that Poke is leaving the offer on the table so open ended.

 

“We might not have a spare room for you to stay in, but we have a comfortable couch and two kids that for some reason adore you,” Poke says, and Ray laughs at that.

 

“Your wife loves me too,” he points out.

 

“I can’t account for her taste, look who she married,” He says with a laugh of his own, which makes Ray laugh harder and roll his eyes. 

 

“That’s very true,” he agrees, drawing an offended sound from Poke before he continues, “I gotta go now homes, I got like three hours of sleep and not only worked but also protested today.”

 

“Oh man,” Poke says, sounding annoyed, “I can’t believe I forgot that the protest was today, how’d it go?”

 

“It was good, surprisingly full of peace and love for being as full of vets as it seemed to be,” Ray answers honestly, “I thought for sure I was gonna have to throw punches but the only time someone said anything even remotely rude was when they told me my sign didn’t have enough glitter. Like that’s even true, I had a full jar of glitter on my goddamn sign, Poke.”

 

“I’m not at all surprised,” Poke responds, laughing, “It sounds like it was a good time though.”

 

“It was but uh, don’t tell Brad if you talk to him before I do. He asked that I not go so…” Ray trails off, stretching his legs slightly as he waits for Poke’s response.

 

“I won’t tell him,” Poke promises, “But I will tell _you_ that you should go lay down and sleep.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ray agrees and the two of them say their goodbyes before Ray hangs up the phone and lets it drop onto his stomach. He checks the clock hanging above the TV and is surprised to see that it’s already nearly eight, close enough to the time that he normally goes to bed that he can take his pills without worrying about getting a migraine the next night because he’s waited too long to take them. With that knowledge he gets up and goes into the kitchen, dry swallowing his pills as he stops in the living room just long enough to turn the TV off before he heads into the bedroom. He gets changed into his pajamas and settles down onto the soft mattress before he sends thoughts of sleeping well into the universe. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has his surgery ft. Daisy Johnson as the anesthesiologist

“You’ll be fine,” Ray says to Bucky as the two of them are sitting in the waiting room of the hospital nearly a week later, “The doctor knows what he’s doing, and you’re gonna wake up with a sick ass robot arm.”

 

Bucky laughs, feeling his shoulders loosen slightly. “I do wish you would stop saying that it's gonna be a robot arm,” he says, letting his gaze dance around the surprisingly homey feeling waiting room, it’s much better than any of the other VA hospitals he'd been in before. 

 

“If only I could, Bucky,” Ray sighs, and Bucky rolls his eyes as he continues, “That’s exactly what it’s gonna be, homes.”

 

Bucky looks over at Ray and reaches out, giving his knee a squeeze before he drops his hand back into his own lap. “Thank you for coming with me,” he says, and he can see Ray roll his eyes out of the corner of his gaze.

 

“Of course, asshole, just because Steve had his own appointment he couldn’t get out of doesn’t mean that we were going to leave you to be all alone pre-surgery, that’s a shitty thing to do,” Ray says, waving off his thanks as he drapes an arm over Bucky’s shoulders and pulls him into a side hug. “I’m also not one hundred percent sure that Nate wouldn’t fly out here _just_ to kick my ass if I had let you go into surgery alone,” he adds on, and Bucky laughs, feeling his stomach flutter slightly at the mention of Nate. 

 

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” Bucky says more for himself than Ray. “And when I wake up I’ll actually have two arms, so I won’t have to bully you into carrying my shit for me all the time,” this is said to Ray, with a small smile and laugh in his direction as Ray gasps dramatically and covers his mouth.

 

“Are you saying that you only like me for my two arms? For _shame_!” Ray says as dramatically as he gasped, moving the hand from his mouth to clutch at a spot over his heart. “I feel so _used_ ,” he continues, faking a swoon as Pepper Potts steps out from behind the desk and into the waiting room.

 

“Doctor Stark has asked that I get you settled into your surgery clothes and onto the gurney that will take you into the OR, your friend is welcome to come with you if you’d like,” she says, propping the door back to the surgery wing open with one arm as she tilts her head slightly.

 

“Yeah, okay, c’mon Ray,” Bucky says, standing up slowly and swaying slightly with the weight of what he’s about to do, “Time to get naked and put on that ridiculous paper gown.”

 

“The sexiest piece of clothing ever made,” Ray teases as he stands up as well, quickly touching the small of Bucky’s back as he nudges him forward and toward the hallway that Pepper is gesturing down. 

 

“You always have the most interesting friends,” Pepper says to Bucky, who rolls his eyes as Ray laughs. 

 

“Don’t encourage him,” Bucky nearly pleads as Ray catches up to him, draping his arm over Buck’s shoulders as the three of them walk down the long sterile hallway. 

 

“The gown is on the bed in there,” Pepper says, gesturing to the door that they’ve stopped outside of, “Doctor Stark asks that you have it on and are ready to go when he gets into the room, which should only be a handful of moments as he’s just wrapping some pre-surgery stuff up for you.”

 

“Got it. Thank you,” Bucky says, forcing a small smile as he lets himself be guided into the room by Ray. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly while Ray drops down onto the rolling stool that is undoubtedly for the doctor, pulling his shirt off over his head as Ray wolf whistles obnoxiously at him. 

 

“Take it off!” Ray cheers as Bucky rolls his eyes, tugging on the not-quite paper gown gently before he pushes his sweats down his hips and onto the floor, kicking his shoes and the sweats off of his feet at the same time as he’s covered in the gown. Ray is kind enough to lean down and pick his clothes up off of the floor, but not kind enough to fold them Bucky realizes as he bundles them up on his lap. 

 

Bucky doesn’t want to sit, too anxious to sit still, so he clutches the gown closed around him with his hand and begins pacing in his socked feet. “I’m keeping my boxers on, mostly because I can’t see a reason why I would need them off as it’s fucking arm surgery,” Bucky says, mostly to himself as he spins on the ball of his foot, catching the concerned look on Ray’s face as he does. “I’m fine, just nervous,” he says, trying to ease the other man’s concern, “I hate being knocked out.”

 

“Understandable,” Ray says with a nod, “I can't imagine you have good feelings associated with being knocked out.”

 

Bucky laughs, “Not even a little,” he agrees as he takes a deep breath just as the door opens and Stark walks into the room.

 

“How’s my favorite patient doing today?” Stark asks as he grabs Bucky’s chart from the counter that it was sitting on. “I see you’re without Steve today, which is a shame,” he continues, nodding to Ray as he introduces himself.

 

“I’m his second favorite person, Steve has his own appointment and can’t make it until later,” Ray says after introducing himself as well, “But he’s gonna be here when the surgery is done, he’s already promised about five different times.”

 

“Third favorite person,” Bucky corrects as Ray waves him off with a laugh.

 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll take third, that’s still placing, homes,” Ray says and Stark looks like he wants to laugh as he continues to take notes in Bucky’s chart. 

 

“Okay, so here’s how this is gonna go then,” Stark pauses in his writing to close the file and look at Bucky, “I’m gonna take your blood pressure, blood oxygen levels, and check your heart with a stethoscope real quick, and then we’re going to get you on your surgery gurney and I’ll take you into the OR to meet the anesthesiologist. And after that we’ll knock you out and do the damn thing.”

 

Bucky lets out an anxious laugh as Stark begins to look him over carefully, taking his vitals and writing them in his file as Ray stands next to Bucky, his hand heavy on Bucky’s shoulder. Ray’s touch is surprisingly grounding, and he presses into the touch slightly as Stark takes his blood pressure. “It’s not a long surgery, is it?” Ray asks, squeezing Bucky’s shoulder gently and Bucky lets out a shaky breath.

 

“It shouldn’t be longer than five hours, which I know _sounds_ like a lot but it’s a lot shorter than the reconstructive surgery that Bucky here initially went through with his arm after the incident,” Stark answers honestly, and Bucky’s fingers are tingling from the blood pressure cuff on his bicep. 

 

“Is it kind of like the reconstructive surgery?” Bucky asks as the blood pressure cuff finally loosens, “Because it _is_ a kind of reconstruction, isn’t it?” 

 

“Yes and no,” Stark answers as he gestures for Bucky to stand up, opening the door to the examination room and gesturing toward the hallway as he continues, “I’m not specifically reconstructing anything, it’s more like making sure what’s there is good for the implant that I’m going to be attaching to you, and then attaching it.”

 

“There’s no chance that you’ll go in and be like ‘oops yeah, no way can he get the sick metal arm’ is there?” Ray asks, causing Bucky to laugh and roll his eyes.

 

“There’s no way that will happen,” Stark answers, “We did all the preliminary testing already, the only thing that might happen is that it takes us a little longer to connect everything where it needs to be because there could be slightly more damage than we’re expecting. It won’t affect whether or not he gets the arm though, just how long the initial surgery will be.”

 

“That’s good at least,” Bucky says even as his stomach flips anxiously, “That I’m definitely getting the arm after all of this.”

 

“I wouldn’t put you under the knife if there was even a chance of you not being able to have the arm, honestly, that’s the shittiest thing that someone could do to someone that lost the arm fighting for this country,” Stark says seriously as he grabs a gurney from an empty room, gesturing to it easily. 

 

Bucky climbs onto the gurney and settles down, tugging the gown down into place as he sits in the center of the gurney and Stark lifts the bars up and into place so that there’s no chance for him to roll off. “When Steve gets here he’s going to be a mess,” Bucky says to Ray, who grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze, “Make sure he doesn’t do something stupid like…try and break into the OR. Or cut his own arm off in solidarity.”

 

Ray laughs as Stark starts wheeling Bucky down the hallway toward the big double doors of the entrance to the OR. “I’ll definitely make sure that he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Ray promises, walking next to the gurney as far as he can until Stark smiles a little tightly at him.

 

“This is where we must leave you,” Stark says to Ray, who leans down and presses a smacking kiss to Bucky’s forehead before he waves at Bucky and Stark as they push through the double doors. Bucky is looking back through the little window at Ray as Stark speaks again, “I promise that it won’t even feel like a long surgery once you’re done, and you’ll get the good drugs afterward if that helps soothe any fears.”

 

Bucky laughs and shakes his head, forcing his limbs to relax against the gurney as he takes a deep breath. “How good are the good drugs?” He asks jokingly, his feet and hands twitching with anxious energy.

 

“Only the best for you, buttercup,” Stark says with a laugh as he continues to push Bucky down the long hallway, finally coming to a stop in front of double doors that open with the push of a button just to the side of the door. Bucky is still twitching as he’s rolled into the OR, his anxiety at a peak as the gurney comes to a stop in the middle of the room, the big light above his head not yet turned on. 

 

“I’m definitely gonna be knocked the fuck out, right?” Bucky asks, his voice shaking as he looks around the room.

 

Stark walks around the gurney until he’s standing at his feet. “Absolutely,” he says, nodding his head as he does, “And when you wake up you won’t have the arm on, but you’ll have what the arm will attach to after you’re healed up. You shouldn’t wear the arm itself for nearly a month, or really until your physical therapist says that you can start trying it out, but we will fit it on you in a few days before you go home just to double check the fit.”

 

Bucky nods his head and then it’s time to lay still as Stark and his nurses hook him up to what feels like hundreds of machines, and stick him with needles up and down his arm. 

 

“Hi there, I’m your anesthesiologist for the day,” a woman says, coming into view from the side of the gurney with a smile and small wave, “My name is Daisy Johnson, and it will be my pleasure to knock you the fuck out, Mister Barnes.”

 

 

Bucky laughs and feels his shoulders loosen slightly as his own words are parroted back at him. “I didn’t realize anyone else was in here when I asked that,” he says lightly as Daisy smiles at him, “Should I call you Doctor Johnson?”

 

“I’d rather be called Daisy, honestly, Doctor makes me feel old,” She looks over at Stark as she says this and sticks her tongue out at him, which causes another laugh to escape from Bucky’s lips. 

 

“Doctor,” Stark says, emphasizing it on purpose if Bucky had to guess, “Get to your questions.”

 

“Oh, right,” Daisy says, waving her hands in the air slightly as she looks back down at Bucky. “Now,” she begins, “We won’t judge you for your answers, I just need to ask some questions so that I can get the ratio of knock out juice correct for you. Have you smoked weed before, and if so has it been within the last week? Have you ever done any harder drugs? Are you or have you ever been an alcoholic? What medications have you taken in the last 48 hours?”

 

It’s a lot of questions, but Bucky is so hyper focused on them as a way to distract himself that he manages to answer all of them the first time, without asking Daisy to repeat them. Once Daisy is satisfied with his answers she goes over to the corner of the room, where Bucky assumes she must have been when they walked in, and begins fiddling with the equipment that’s over there. “Alright,” Stark says as a group of nurses congregates behind him, “Bucky, we’re going to start putting you under now, let us know if it’s not working if you need to.”

 

Bucky makes a noise of consent and Daisy is back at his side again, this time dragging one of her machines with her and lacking a smile. He can appreciate that, getting serious when it’s time to get to the real work, and that’s the last lucid thought he has, his eyelids growing heavy mere moments after he feels the sting of whatever medication she’s given him entering his veins. 

 

——————

 

Bucky’s hearing is the first thing to come back, and he’s not surprised to hear Ray and Steve’s voices echoing around him as they argue over…dessert? He’s not really sure what they’re arguing over, and the fact that he has a tube down his throat is the more pressing matter because he feels like he’s choking. His eyes fly open when the tube is slowly pulled out, and he’s gagging on air as he wakes up for real, a nurse bent over his bed and looking at him in concern. “Are you okay, Mister Barnes?” He asks, the tube that had been down Bucky’s throat still in his hand. 

 

“Better now that the tube is out,” Bucky answers honestly, his voice rough with disuse and his throat sore. “How long?” He asks, letting his head roll against the pillow so that he’s looking at Ray and Steve, the two of them sitting on the left side of the bed in chairs that he’s pretty sure were stolen from another room.

 

“Bucky! You’re alive!” Ray yells loudly, undoubtedly bothering the people in the rooms next to them.

 

“Unfortunately,” Bucky says with a short laugh, “How long was the surgery?”

 

Steve stands up from his chair and leans over the bed that Bucky is lying in, shouldering the nurse out of the way only slightly with a sheepish look. The nurse smiles at the two of them and steps out of the room, and Steve looks down at Bucky with his own smile. “It was nearly six hours, there was a bit more damage to work around than Tony thought there would be, but everything is good now,” Steve answers before he leans over and presses a quick kiss to Bucky’s dry mouth, “Your arm is wrapped to the teeth in bandages right now so you can’t see it, but Tony showed me before he wrapped it and it looks...intense.”

 

“I wasn’t allowed to see,” Ray complains as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Because you made them promise not to let me touch anything even vaguely robotic until you were awake and _apparently_ they consider the new bicep shoulder thing you’ve got going on as vaguely robotic.”

 

“So glad they listened to me,” Bucky says with a shake of his head, looking down at the swath of bandages around his left shoulder and upper bicep. “You can see as soon as I can take the bandages off,” he promises Ray, which earns a loud whoop of celebration and Ray doing a weird dance in his chair.

 

Bucky wants to say more, he swears, but his eyelids are beginning to feel heavy. “Sleep,” Steve says, apparently noticing the way his eyelids are fluttering, “Tony said that you’d probably be exhausted after you woke up from the drug sleep, which lead to a weird conversation about drug induced weirdness? But the moral of the story, I think, was that you should feel free to sleep for as long as you need to.”

 

A choked off laugh escapes his throat even as he closes his eyes. “You got it,” Bucky mumbles, or at least thinks he does, even as he nods off again, thankfully breathing on his own this time. 

 

\-----------------------

 

“Do you really think he’s okay?” Ray asks Steve as he looks at Bucky sleeping, his brow furrowed even as he snores lightly. 

 

“I think even if he wasn’t okay he wouldn’t tell us,” Steve answers, and Ray knows how true that is, “But I think that even if he’s not okay right now, he will be.”

 

Ray accepts that answer as one that is about as good as it’s gonna get at this point, and he rests his head against Steve’s shoulder once the other man drops back into the chair next to him. “Did you call Nate?” He asks after a few moments of the two of them watching Bucky sleep.

 

“I texted him,” Steve replies, “He has a test that he’s sitting today and I didn’t want his phone to go off in the middle of it in case he forgot to turn the ringer off. Texting is also easier too, because I’m not exactly sure what’s up with him.”

 

Ray makes a noise of understanding. “Nate is…” He trails off for a moment, putting his thoughts together, “I love him dearly, but I’m not sure _he_ knows what’s up with him. He’s very into you and Bucky, but beyond that I think this whole thing is very, not up his alley? Or at least not in his wheelhouse of things that he knows how to deal with, he’s very much a control freak when it comes to practically everything.”

 

Steve laughs quietly as he replies, “I’ve definitely noticed that, and I’m sure Bucky has too. I think it might be easier if he was actually out here, so that he wouldn’t be constantly second guessing everything that’s happening.”

 

“You guys will figure something out, I’m sure,” Ray says, and he really feels that way down to his fucking toes, which is a little obnoxious but mostly it’s just awesome because his friends like each other! Yay! But it also means that things like this happen, where he knows what Nate is thinking because he’s told him, but he can't tell Steve and Bucky because that would be breaking the Bro Code which Ray is staunchly against. 

 

“I hope so,” Steve says quietly as the two of them stare at Bucky on the bed, and Ray thinks he looks smaller than he’s ever seen him. Hospitals are disconcerting like that, sucking the life out of anyone that’s in them for any length of time, even Steve is looking a little rough around the edges. 

 

“And if it all goes to shit I’ll just fight both you and Nate,” Ray says as he reaches out and grabs Steve’s hand, squeezing lightly.

 

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “What about Bucky?” He asks, tone sounding genuinely curious.

 

“Well, he’s done nothing wrong ever in his entire life and I love him, but also he’s gonna have a robot arm that could probably kill me in two punches, so you’ll just have to stand as both you _and_ Bucky if it comes down to fighting,” Ray answers, and Steve laughs loudly, earning a shushing sound from one of the nurses passing by the open doorway. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray gets a call that fucks his world up, Steve and Bucky are there for him

It’s been a few days since Bucky’s surgery, and Ray is heading over to his apartment to watch shitty television and eat pizza because Ray has the next day off and Bucky has resorted to actually calling him on the phone to talk, so he figures that the other man must be bored out of his mind. “Oh thank God,” Bucky says as Ray opens the door, hot pizza held above his head like some prize from the street fair. 

 

“I’m not God, but I’ll take the thanks,” Ray says with a laugh as he sets the pizza box on Bucky’s kitchen counter, watching Bucky get slowly to his feet from the corner of his eye.

 

“Please tell me there’s sausage on that pizza,” Bucky says, and Ray opens the box to reveal a pizza with extra cheese and extra sausage. “I could kiss you,” he says when he sees the pizza, and Ray accepts the one armed hug that he gets instead, hugging back as tightly as he can without hurting the other man.

 

“How are you?” Ray asks as he grabs paper plates from Bucky’s pantry, having been over enough that he knows where everything is located.

 

Bucky sighs and takes the plate that Ray hands him, and Ray finally looks at him for the first time since he walked through the door. He looks tired, circles under his eyes, and he’s moving more slowly than Ray has ever seen. “I hurt all over, which is weird because it was only surgery on my arm? Nearly a week ago? But it’s like the pain goes from my shoulder to my feet and back up again,” Bucky replies, and Ray sees him wince as he grabs a slice of pizza from the box and puts it on his plate. 

 

“Have you called Doctor Stark? What’s he have to say about it?” Ray asks as he grabs his own slice from the box, closing the lid before he follows Bucky into the living room. 

 

“He said that it’s normal, especially for someone that’s gone through a trauma before, to take a long time to recover from something like this. He also said something about my nerves and brain needing to get used to these new connections again?” Bucky answers, shrugging even though it looks like it hurts, “I kind of space out when he starts talking science-y stuff, all I needed from him was to hear that it’s normal so that I wouldn’t worry about it.”

 

“So you’re saying if I want the science I should talk to Steve?” Ray teases before he takes a bite of the pizza, watching as Bucky nods before he takes his own bite. 

 

“Yeah, or Nate, because when Steve came over last night we Skyped with him and Steve explained it all to him too, while I spaced off,” Bucky says around his mouthful of pizza.

 

Ray laughs and the two of them are enjoying their pizza, Ray getting up eventually and bringing the box over to the coffee table so that they don’t have to keep getting up to get more. He’s three slices deep when his phone starts ringing in his pocket, and he struggles to get it out of his pocket with greasy fingers. “Hello?” Ray answers the phone, not having been able to catch the name that flashed on the screen before he hit accept and placed the phone to his ear.

 

“Ray? Honey?” It’s Brad’s mom, which is weird because he just talked to her a few days ago, and Bucky looks over at him as he furrows his brows in confusion.

 

“Mrs. Colbert, hi, how are you?” Ray asks kindly, and he’s expecting her to brush that off, to ask him to call her Emily like she always does, when he hears her take in a shaky breath. 

 

“Honey, Brad is--” She stops herself, and Ray can feel his whole body begin to shake, it’s a new experience this overwhelming fear that’s rushed over him all at once. 

 

“Brad,” Ray croaks out, and he sees Bucky drop his slice back into the box and can see Bucky scoot until he’s pressed against him, but he can’t feel it as he’s gone completely numb.

 

“He’s...alive but just...they’re taking him to Germany. It’s bad, Ray, real bad, I spoke to his commanding officer and…” Mrs. Colbert trails off, and Ray’s ears are ringing, or maybe he just can’t hear her because of how loud the ringing is. He doesn’t fight Bucky when the other man takes the phone from him, taking over the call for him as he’s lost his ability to focus on anything beyond ‘ _Brad, Brad, Brad_ ’. 

 

“Ray, buddy,” Bucky is shaking him, and Ray blinks his eyes open because he had apparently closed them, “You passed out.”

 

Ray blinks up at Bucky and realizes that he’s laying on the couch, and Steve is standing just behind Bucky, a look of concern on his face. “Brad?” Ray asks, and Bucky’s face turns grim while Steve’s eyes tears up enough that Ray can see it from his spot on the couch.

 

“He’s alive,” Bucky says, and Ray feels the noose around his throat loosen slightly, “But they’re airlifting him to Germany as we speak because it's not good.” Ray is tense again, and he’s struggling to breath as Bucky cradles his face in his hands and mumbles nonsense words until his shaking subsides to a light shiver. 

 

“What happened?” Ray asks, nearly choking on his words.

 

Steve is the one to speak now, and Ray has the fleeting thought that he must have been out longer than he thought for Steve to be up to speed. “It was an IED, in uh well, Emily wasn’t sure herself, she just got the info from his CO and really, she was probably in no better shape than you when they were telling her so. He has…extensive injuries all over, pretty much, but the doctors don’t think that he’s paralyzed, and they think he’s in shape enough to travel to Germany so that’s gotta mean something, right?” Steve says, and he sounds like he’s grappling with what to say, Ray understands it, he does, but he feels like his world is falling apart right beneath his feet and there’s nothing he can do.

 

“He…I don’t have a passport,” Ray says, and he can feel himself turning hysterical, his chest tightening as his eyes finally begin to water, the tears spilling over as he lays on the couch in Bucky’s apartment, surrounded by two people that he loves with his main person halfway across the world, broken and bleeding and there’s _nothing he can do_. “He’s _dying_ and I don’t have a _fucking passport_ ,” Ray is angry, and he sits up fast, swiping at his eyes with his hands as he jerks shakily to his feet. 

 

“Ray—you need—” Bucky is standing in front of him, reaching for him, and Ray shoves him hard out of the way, ignoring his hiss of pain as he stalks toward the door of the apartment.

 

“What I _need_ ,” Ray says as he shoves his feet into his shoes, having kicked them off by the door when he first arrived, “Is to make sure my _fucking boyfriend doesn’t die_.”

 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Steve says, and Ray rolls his eyes, anger and fear making his jaw clench as he grabs the door handle. “Ray,” he says, grabbing his shoulders and turning him away from the door, his fingers pinpricks of heat against Ray’s shoulders, “You’re not going anywhere.”

 

Ray is fighting, trying to pull away from Steve when suddenly he stops, collapsing forward against Steve’s chest and choking on a sob. He can feel Steve’s arms around him, and he lets himself be walked forward, away from the door, so that another body can squeeze behind him, Bucky wrapping his one arm around both Ray and Steve tightly. “We’ve got you,” Bucky says quietly, and Ray can barely hear him over his own sobs because it’s _true_ , but he really wishes he had _Brad_ , he’s the one that he needs and _he’s not here._

 

_Brad_ is the strong one, _Brad_ is the one that would know what to do, _Brad_ would be on a plane halfway to fucking Germany by now if it were him in the hospital but instead Ray is sobbing in the arms of his best friends because he’s _sad_. “I don’t know what to do,” Ray whispers against Steve’s chest, his sobs dying down as he lets himself be held tight, the arms around him the only things grounding him at this point. 

 

“You’re going to cry, and then you’ll take some ibuprofen and drink a glass of water, and then you’ll blow your nose and call Emily back to see what they’re doing and when they’re doing it,” Bucky says calmly, and his tone is enough to make Ray sob again, turning in the arms around him so that his head is pressing against Bucky’s shoulder. 

 

“I’m sorry I pushed you,” Ray chokes out, and he feels Steve take a step back, letting the two of them hug in solitude as Ray wraps his arms tightly around Bucky’s waist.

 

“It’s okay,” Bucky says quietly, and Ray knows him well enough to hear the shake in his voice that says he’s crying too, and that just makes Ray clutch at him harder. “Emily told me that his CO said he was breathing, which is the best case, but she didn’t sound like she knew much more than that,” Bucky continues, his hand pressing against the back of Ray’s head, holding his face gently against his shoulder. 

 

They stand like that for a few more moments, Ray’s crying dying down slightly as Bucky’s fingers brush through his hair. “I need to see him,” Ray says, sniffling and finally pulling away from the hug, wiping at his face with his hands as Bucky rubs at his shoulder. 

 

“Drink water, take an ibuprofen for the banging headache you’re gonna have, and call Emily to figure out how and where you’re going to see him,” Steve says, stepping back up to the two of them and draping his arm across Ray’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. 

 

“Right, right,” Ray agrees, and Bucky breaks off to go into the kitchen Ray can hear the water in the sink running and he lets out a shaky breath, letting himself be led to the couch where he drops down heavily, his head lolling back against the cushions. 

 

“There’s nothing you can do for him now,” Steve says gently, “He’s in the hands of the best doctors in the world, all you would do right now is get in the way.”

 

“I know,” Ray says quietly, accepting the glass of water and ibuprofen that Bucky holds out, and accepting even more gratefully the lapful of one armed man that follows, the weight of Bucky pushing him into the cushions and grounding him as he swallows the ibuprofen with a sip of water. Steve drops onto the couch with them, sitting on the cushion next to Ray as he takes the cup from him, handing him his phone in its place. 

 

“Call Emily,” Steve says gently, and Ray looks at the screen where he’s already pulled up her contact information. 

 

“Yes, okay,” Ray replies, pressing the call button before he lifts the phone to his ear, closing his eyes and focusing on Bucky’s weight as the phone rings. 

 

—————

 

“You don’t have to go alone, I can go with you,” Bucky says as he and Steve stand with Ray in the airport. “Tell me now and I’ll buy a fucking ticket,” he continues, and Ray feels himself smile slightly as he shakes his head. 

 

“Emily is meeting me at the airport and we’re heading over to the hospital straight from there, my flight lands maybe ten minutes before hers does so…I won’t be alone for long,” Ray promises, tapping the pocket that his phone is in as he continues, “I’ll text you as soon as I land and I’ll let you know what I know, when I know it.”

 

“Thank you,” Steve says, and he pulls Ray into a tight hug, Bucky joining in and making it a group hug as the murmur their goodbyes. 

 

The flight feels simultaneously like the longest and shortest flight in history, and he knows he must annoy his seat partners with the bouncing of his legs and his fingers tapping on the armrests, but he can’t stop the nervous moving. He lets out a sigh of relief as the flight taxis to the terminal, and he’s the first to stand, ducking slightly so that his head doesn’t hit the overhead compartment. _‘just landed, now it’s time to wait_ ’ Ray sends off to Steve and Bucky as he’s walking out of the plane, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder as he inches his way between the other passengers. 

 

Ray does so many circuits around baggage claim that he feels he’s being looked at by security, but if he sat still he would explode, so instead he paces. He’s on his third figure eight around the carousel that his checked bag would have come out of when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He gasps when he sees who’s standing there, “Nate?” 

 

“Hey buddy,” Nate says, smiling gently, and Ray nearly collapses into the hug that he’s pulled into. “How are you?” He asks, and Ray is still in such shock that Nate is in front of him that he’s speechless, and he only manages to shake his head against Nate’s shoulder. 

 

“Tired, sad, surprised that you’re here,” Ray answers honestly, easing out of the hug as he finally looks at Nate, realizing that the other man looks exhausted, the bags under his eyes as large as Ray’s duffle. “What are you doing here? I thought you had tests to take and…I’m sorry, I don’t remember much about the past two days so if you told me you were coming I don’t remember,” He says, cheeks coloring slightly in embarrassment as he realizes that since he found out about Brad he doesn’t remember much.

 

Nate is shaking his head as Ray finishes speaking. “Steve and Bucky told me when you were landing, but you’re not the only one that Emily called, especially after Bucky let slip to her that you had _passed out_ after he took the phone from you,” Nate says, grabbing Ray by the shoulders and giving his a light shake. 

 

“Who else did she call?” Ray asks, and he’s not surprised that Emily would call Nate, but he can’t think of who else she would have called. 

 

“Poke,” Nate answers, and Ray swears out loud because _shit_ he forgot about Poke, he forgot about Nate too if he’s honest, but he knew that Bucky and Steve would have kept him in the loop. “Bucky called him after they finally let you leave that night, just before he called me,” Nate says, squeezing his shoulders and looking him in the eye, “You were under no obligation to tell anyone else about what happened.”

 

“I should have, though, I should have thought about…” Ray trails off, because he had been so stuck in thinking about Brad for the past forty-eight hours that he’d nearly made himself sick with worry.

 

“You were thinking about exactly who you should have been thinking about,” Nate corrects, shaking his head as he finally lets his grip on Ray drop, and the two of them are standing there staring at each other in comfortable silence when Ray spots Emily and Jacob walking toward them, Brad’s parents looking as exhausted as he feels. 

 

“Ray,” Emily says as they approach, and his vision goes fuzzy with tears as she pulls him into a tight hug. 

 

“Mrs. Colbert,” Ray mumbles in greeting, stopping himself from crying into the hug but just barely.

 

“Please, it's Emily,” She says, as she always does, which is enough of a relief to make him laugh wetly against her shoulder, and he feels a few damp spots on his shirt as they break their hug, his gaze moving over to Jacob. 

 

“Jacob,” Ray greets, and he’s surprised when the normally staunch handshake and polite nod giving man pulls him into a hard hug as Emily does the same to Nate. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jacob says as he, weirdly, presses a quick kiss to the top of Ray’s head, his height reminding Ray of Brad so intensely that he feels almost bowled over with it. Ray can’t stop the tears when that thought hits him, but he’s pretty much cried out by this point so it’s just quiet tears into the chest of the father of the man he loves in the middle of an airport in _goddamn_ Delaware. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospitals suck
> 
> ROE: Rules of Engagement

Ray and Emily are holding hands in the waiting room of a hospital that stinks of bleach and sadness, something that Ray didn’t know even _had_ a smell until they walked into the hospital. 

 

“This is _fucking ridiculous_ , we shouldn’t have to wait out here,” Jacob says under his breath, and Ray sees Emily reach her other hand out to Jacob, pressing it down on his bouncing knee. 

 

“Family of Sergeant Colbert?” A nurse announces from the doorway, and all four of them jump to their feet with a speed that Ray wouldn’t have thought possible seconds before they did it. 

 

“That’s us,” Emily says, surprisingly the strongest of the bunch, “Take us to Brad, please.”

 

“I’m sorry, it’s only family,” The nurse says, eyes skating over Jacob to settle on Ray and Nate, “Are you two family?”

 

“They are his family, brothers,” Jacob says, and his voice is so strong that Ray knows the nurse won’t argue, which she doesn’t, waving them back to follow her down a hallway that smells, if possible, like more sadness than the waiting room did. 

 

The nurse gestures to a door just off to the left and says, “It might be…a shock, for you, to see him like this, so take as much time as you need.” 

 

Ray has to let go of Emily’s hand to cross his arms over his chest, feeling the need to physically hold himself together as he stares at the barely cracked door that Brad is behind. “I don’t…I don’t know if I can go in?” He says quietly as the nurse takes her leave, the four of them standing in the hallway and looking at each other. “If I go in it makes it real,” Ray mumbles, and Emily reaches out, resting her hand on his shoulder, and he feels Nate press in closer to his back as he sucks in a deep breath. 

 

“It’s like a band-aid,” Nate says, and Ray lets out a shaky laugh as Jacob pushes the door open slowly. 

 

Ray wants to hide away, pretend nothing is happening, but he knows what he needs to do and so he leads the way, Nate and Brad’s parents following him into the sterile room. _Brad looks small,_ is his first thought, which is a weird thought to have considering he’s six feet of muscle, and when he sees that Brad’s breathing through a tube his own breathing stops for a moment. “He…it’s bad, isn’t it?” Ray says to no one as he moves in a haze toward the bed, not sure where to put his hands as he reaches the side of it.

 

It’s nearly silent as the four of them stand around Brad’s bed, Emily the first to reach out to carefully touch his hand. Her hesitant touch breaks the dam, and suddenly everyone is gently touching whatever part of Brad they can reach, Ray brushes his fingers across Brad’s cheek as his parents hold his hands and Nate is touching his foot, which makes Ray laugh slightly when he realizes it. It also makes Ray breathe a sigh of relief as he realizes that Brad has all of his limbs attached, a thought that makes him feel disgusted with himself as Bucky’s face flashes in the front of his mind.

 

“He’s alive,” Emily says, and Ray can feel that fact in his finger tips, the skin of Brad’s cheek warm against them as he lets his eyes slip closed for just a moment. 

 

Ray hears a throat clear from the doorway and prides himself on not pulling away from Brad like he’s doing something wrong, because he’s _not._ "I'm Sergeant Colbert’s doctor, Stephen Strange,” a man in a doctor’s coat says, and Ray looks over just long enough to see that he has a weird fucking mustache, but that he’s at least not looking at Ray’s fingers on his Brad’s cheek with a look of disgust, which is enough to make Ray like him. 

 

“Brad, call him Brad, please,” Jacob says, and it’s enough that Ray finally looks up from his fingers on Brad’s cheek, actually taking in the doctor standing in the doorway. 

 

“You must be his parents and his…brothers?” The doctor asks, and he raises an eyebrow high enough that Ray knows that he knows they lied about that.

 

“Battle buddies,” Nate says, honestly, and Ray shakes his head with a choked off laugh.

 

“So as good as,” The doctor says with a nod of his head, finally stepping fully into the room. “I’m sure you’d like an update,” he says, and Ray finally breaks his touch on Brad’s cheek as he crosses his arms over his chest, his hip pressing against the side of the hospital bed. “He was bad when he first arrived, it was only the fast work of the boots on the ground and the fine doctors in Germany that got him as far as he is now. Which is in a medically induced coma, for his protection, he’s a large man and we’re still not sure if he’s suffered a spinal injury so we want to keep him as still as possible which calls for a coma,” Doctor Strange says without looking at the chart, which he picks up as he crosses the final few steps to the foot of the bed. 

 

“What does that mean?” Jacob asks, and Ray is glad that someone asked because his head is swimming.

 

“This means that until we can get the MRI results—we took them this morning so it should be back within a few hours—we’re taking every precaution that we can. If there’s no spinal injury we’re going to make sure to ease him into a state of…there’s not professional way to say this, awakeness? And if there is spinal injury we’re going to keep him in this state until we can come up with a game plan to better treat him,” Doctor Strange answers gently, flipping through the chart in his hands as he glances up from it. 

 

Ray is struggling with the questions that he wants to ask, and he lets out a deep sigh before he speaks. “I uh, this might be indelicate but,” he pauses, and his eyes drift over Emily and Jacob as he hesitates. 

 

“ _All_ of his parts are intact,” The doctor answers, and Ray feels his shoulders loosen slightly even as Nate bursts into giggles as the other man realizes what he was about to ask. “It’s a common question among troops that suffer from IED attacks,” he says to Brad’s parents, “Because of the nature of the uh, angle of the blow from the bombs their first question is usually about their…Wow, he was right, there’s really no way to avoid being indelicate, the troops usually worry about their external reproductive organs.”

 

Ray is expecting them to look surprised but instead Emily breaks into peals of laughter, nearly doubling over with the power of it. “Ray, honey, your first question was about his dick?” She forces out the words between her laughs, and Ray feels himself start to giggle as well, covering his face with his hands as he does. 

 

“I had so many questions,” Ray forces out between his giggles, “But I got overwhelmed and couldn’t think of anything other than his dick, oh my God.”

 

“That happens more than you would think with soldier’s partners,” The doctor says easily, and Ray freezes in place as the atmosphere turns thick. “Oh are you not…?” He trails off, waving the hand not holding the file carefully between Ray and Brad. 

 

“Are you asking? Because I, _Brad_ , can’t afford to tell, not when he’s career,” Ray says slowly, toeing the line of information he’s willing to give. 

 

Doctor Strange looks at Ray hard, and he feels his shoulders tighten before the doctor begins speaking. “I am asking, but only as a doctor that needs to know who to share what information with, not as _anyone_ attached to the military, in _any_ form,” he says slowly, tipping his head slightly in what Ray reads as understanding.

 

“You can share all the news, any news, that you would share with us as his parents with these two here,” Jacob says, and his voice is rough again as he reaches back, grabbing one of Ray’s hands in his and giving it a squeeze of support. “They need to know just as much as we do,” he continues, dropping Ray’s hand and turning back to the bed, grabbing one of Brad’s hands in both of his as Emily agrees quietly across the bed with him. 

 

“His face? I mean, it’s beaten up but is anything broken? Body wise, what’s broken?” Nate asks suddenly, and Ray is glad he’s there, because if anyone keeps a cool head under pressure it’s Nate Fick. 

 

“That I can definitely tell you,” Doctor Strange says, and Ray feels the tension drop almost immediately as he looks down at the file in his hand. “He’s broken his nose, cracked his left cheekbone, there are some surface injuries of course. He’s also, as far as we know, cracked his left collarbone, his left arm in two places, his right ankle is severely sprained and he may have suffered some temporary hearing damage. The hearing damage we’re hoping will have cleared itself up by the time we’re waking him up from the induced coma, as well as us having his bones set enough that they’ll heal well,” he rattles off Brad’s injuries quickly, but slow enough that Ray has enough time to be overwhelmed by the list. 

 

“And of course, we’re waiting for the MRI results,” he adds as he sets Brad’s file back into the basket at the end of his bed. “I’ll leave you four to decompress in peace,” he offers, raising his hands in front of himself as he takes a step back, “If you have any questions grab a nurse, any nurse, and they’ll track me down, I swear. Until then, I’m going to be tracking down those MRI results and I will come back as soon as I have read them to let you know what I know.”

 

“Thank you,” Jacob says for the group, and the four of them turn back to look at Brad. 

 

Ray takes in the bruises and cuts on his face this time, actually looking at the injuries that he had been so careful in avoiding before, his fingers reaching out to touch the edge of the bandages covering the bridge of his nose. “I need to let Bucky and Steve know what’s going on,” he mumbles mostly to himself as he skates his fingertips down to the edge of the exposed bandages encasing Brad’s chest. 

 

Nate touches Ray’s shoulder and he jerks in surprise as Nate begins speaking. “I’ll call them, you stay here with Emily and Jacob, be with Brad. You need it,” his voice is surprisingly throaty, and Ray knows that if he looks at Nate he’ll lose it again so he doesn't, nodding as he keeps his eyes on the rise and fall of Brad’s chest. It’s enough, right now, to know that he’s breathing and safe.

 

—————

 

“He’s _paralyzed_?” Ray asks as Doctor Strange stops talking, and he’s shocked at the pitch of his own voice, and less surprised at the tears dancing around the edge of his vision.

 

“ _No_ , not paralyzed,” Doctor Strange corrects, “He has a spinal injury between the first and second lumbar region, it’s called a Cauda Equina Lesion, there _is_ treatment for this, and it will _not_ affect his movement more than any of his other injuries.”

 

Ray is overwhelmed again, but this time it’s Jacob that saves the day. “What _will_ it affect?” He asks, and he pulls a small notebook from his jacket pocket in a move that reminds Ray of something Brad would do, which is enough to make tears finally fall down his cheeks. Ray would feel embarrassed but he sees Emily wiping at her face, and he’s comforted by the fact that he’s not the only weepy one around Brad’s bed. 

 

“Sensations mostly, it _is_ nerve damage so there’s going to be a lot of dulled sensations as well as periodic sharp pains. I’m recommending keeping him under for a few more days to give his spine and the broken bones more time to heal, as well as to keep an eye on any other issues that may emerge in the following days. We need him awake before we can schedule the surgery that will lessen the effects of the Cauda Equina, because we need to know how much pain he’s in which is not something we can tell just from the scans,” Doctor Strange answers, and Ray watches Jacob scratch down notes as Nate types away on his phone and he’s sure that his former Lieutenant is taking his own version of notes, and probably sending questions to Doc as he does. 

 

“So, he should be able to walk then, and run because God, if he can’t run he’ll….” Ray trails off, and he realizes how ridiculous his worry sounds, but Nate and Emily are nodding along with him as he speaks. 

 

Doctor Strange looks down at the file in his hands, shuffling a few papers around as he appears to try and figure out how to answer him. “Brad will absolutely be able to walk again, that’s not a question, but running is highly dependent on how much more swelling goes on in his back and how well the surgery goes once he’s awake,” he answers, sounding certain. “I feel that there will be a learning curve for him once he comes around, he was very active, yes?” Doctor Strange asks and Ray laughs as he nods in agreement. “He probably will never be as active as he was before, but he’s definitely going to be mobile and healthier than any other IED victim I’ve treated lately. He got lucky,” he says gently, and Ray sucks in a breath because he _didn’t even think about the other men_. 

 

“The other men in his squad?” He asks, and his hands are folded in his lap because if they weren’t he knows they’d be shaking. 

 

The doctor looks serious as he closes Brad’s file. “Five of the men suffered superficial injuries, scratches and scrapes and such. Two of them were able to be treated in Germany, and they’re currently in rooms down stairs, in the less critical part of the hospital. There was another man, he wasn’t in Brad’s squad but he was part of the security detail with them. He uh, he didn’t make it. They lost him in the OR in Germany as there was just…too much internal damage,” Doctor Strange’s answer is clipped, like he doesn’t want to keep talking but forces himself to anyway. 

 

“Is there a reason why Brad’s injuries are so serious and the rest of his squad’s aren’t?” Emily asks, and she doesn’t sound envious, just genuinely curious. 

 

Doctor Strange stands up and places Brad’s file back in the basket at the foot of the bed as he answers, “Brad was driving when they struck the IED, the blast was centered on the front half of the vehicle, and from the reports the rest of the men were in the back while Brad and the soldier from the security detail were in the cab.”

 

Ray feels like he’s been punched in the gut, and Nate reaches out to him as he bends over, resting his forehead on his knees as the other man’s hand rests on the back of his neck. He feels ridiculous, bursting into sobs because Brad was driving but all he can think is that _it should have been him_. _Ray_ was the driver, _Ray_ was the one behind the wheel always and _this_? The fact that Brad nearly _got_ _killed_ because Ray wasn’t there to drive? It’s going to drive him insane with guilt. He brings his hands up to cover his face, pressing his fingers to his face as he stays doubled over, and he can hear Nate speaking, but he’s too stuck in his own mind to hear what he’s saying. If he had to guess, and was a betting man, he’d say that Nate has explained the reason Ray’s crying because next thing he knows he feels two sets of arms around him, and Emily’s mumbling against his ear, “ _This is not your fault, Ray_.”

 

“If I had just—” Ray tries to choke out a reply but he can’t, and he keeps his eyes closed as he tries to pull himself together. 

 

“What, Ray? If you _had just_ , what? _Stayed in the Marines_? You _hated_ the ROE over there, and you _hated_ the sand, and you were so fucked up on Ripped Fuel half the time that you were never at your best. Brad wasn’t even fighting with the U.S. Marines, so what would you have done, anyway?” Nate asks rhetorically, and Ray can understand his seemingly aggressive response, because Nate has never been good with people feeling guilty for things beyond their control, but it still stings. 

 

Ray sucks in a deep breath and sits up slowly, Emily and Jacob releasing their holds on him as he wipes at his face. “I know,” Ray says, and he does, he knows that it’s not his fault, but hearing that Brad had been driving when he was injured hit him like a goddamn shot. “Not my fault, I know, but it feels like it could be,” he says, and he glances up at the doctor with a grimace, “Sorry about that, Doc.”

 

“You’re not the first person I’ve seen break down, and you won’t be the last. Hell, you’re probably not even the last _today_ ,” Doctor Strange says, waving off his apology. “I’m going to put together a waking plan for Brad, we’re going to start weening him off the drugs that are keeping him asleep today, but it may still take up to three days for him to wake completely,” he continues, opening the door to the hallway and giving everyone a moment to catch their breath before he says, “If you have any questions just grab a nurse and ask them to track me down, they know my hiding places.”

 

With that Doctor Strange exits the room again and there’s silence for a moment while everyone gathers their thoughts. Nate is the first to break the silence, “I’m going to call Steve and Bucky, and Poke, to update everyone. Does anyone want a drink? Snack?”

 

“Water please, for all of us I would think,” Emily says, and Ray can tell she’s thankful that at least one of them is able to function beyond the basics of breathing and crying. 

 

Ray nods and gives Nate a tired smile before he closes his eyes and leans back in the chair he’s been in nearly all morning. _This isn’t how I pictured his homecoming_ , Ray thinks as he tilts his head to the side, cracking his eyes open just enough to gaze at Brad laying in the hospital bed, _but I’m glad he’s alive._

 


	20. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like you really thought Bucky and Steve wouldn't show up

Bucky doesn’t tell Ray that they’re showing up at the hospital because he doesn’t want to give Ray the option of telling he and Steve to not show up. Nate greets them in the lobby of the hotel that they’re staying at, hugging the two of them tightly and pressing discreet kisses to their cheeks as he does. 

 

“You look tired,” Bucky says to Nate as they break their hug, and Bucky brings his hand up to brush his thumb gently under Nate’s eye, the dark bags prominent. 

 

“Brad finally woke up last night,” Nate says, and Bucky accepts that as an answer. “He’s in pain, but not as much as the doctor had originally thought which we’re taking as a good sign. He’s going into surgery tomorrow to decompress…some vertebrae, it’s all kind of a blur, and he’s broken all over, but he’s _alive_ ,” Nate sounds choked up as he continues on in his explanation, and Bucky pulls him into another hug, Steve moving so that he can place one hand on the back of Nate’s neck as he buries his face against Bucky’s shoulder. 

 

Bucky meets Steve’s eyes over Nate’s head and the two of them comfort Nate as he cries nearly silently against Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re allowed to cry,” Steve says soothingly, “You’ve been taking such good care of Ray that you haven’t had the time to, have you?”

 

Nate shakes his head against Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky pulls him in just a little tighter, thankful that they’re in an isolated part of the hotel lobby. “You’re so strong, but you don’t have to be anymore okay? You can relax, Steve and I are tagging ourselves in for this one,” Bucky says quietly, and Nate pulls himself out of the hug, wiping at his face with his hands as he nods. 

 

“Sorry,” Nate says, and he looks sheepish as he stops wiping at his face, looking at Bucky and Steve carefully as he continues, “Ray is a mess, Brad’s parents are a mess, and I’ve been trying to keep everything together for nearly four days but _it’s hard,_ because I just want to be a mess too, because my best friend nearly _died_.”

 

Steve reaches out with one hand and touches Nate’s cheek gently with the backs of his fingers as he says, “Well, it’s our turn now, so you get to join the being a mess crowd while Bucky and I take your spot.”

 

“We’re pretty much cried out at this point anyway,” Bucky says honestly, and it’s enough to make Nate let out a short laugh, which is what he’d been hoping for anyway. The three of them make it out of the hotel and into the rental car that Nate borrowed from Emily. Nate explains on the drive that the group at the hospital had all been taking turns going to the hotel to change clothes and get a few hours of sleep in an actual bed, and Nate had made it so that his break coincided with Bucky and Steve’s plane touching down in Delaware so that he could meet them at the hotel after his nap and shower. 

 

“So, I texted Ray when I was headed down to the lobby to meet you guys and he said that Brad had eaten something, which is good because they were concerned that they may have to shove a feeding tube down his throat if he couldn’t manage it,” Nate says, and Bucky knows this because Ray had texted him as well, but he figures that Nate just needs to talk, and so he lets him, catching Steve’s eye as he glances over his shoulder from the passenger seat into the back seat where Bucky is sitting behind Nate, his hand touching his shoulder over the back of the seat. 

 

“That’s good, that he’s eating on his own,” Steve says, and Bucky feels himself smile because it is good, it’s really good, and Brad is one of the strongest men he knows so there’s no way he’ll let the injuries get him down. 

 

They’re pretty quiet on the drive to the hospital, the only sounds are the wheels on the road and the radio playing lowly in the background, which Bucky can hear Nate sing along to periodically, and he keeps his fingers resting on Nate’s shoulder even as he parks the car in the hospital parking lot.

 

“You’re a great friend,” Bucky says to Nate as the three of them get out of the car, “Ray and Brad are lucky to have you.”

 

“You two have me too,” Nate says, and he says it like he’s embarrassed, “Which we’re going to talk about, after Brad’s not surrounded by machines making sure he doesn’t die. But this whole thing has…put some things into perspective.”

 

Bucky can’t help but be happy, because he and Steve had been trying to get Nate to talk to them about everything since he left California to go back to Harvard, but he’s also sad that it took Brad almost dying to get the man to actually want to open up about it. “Of course,” Bucky agrees, and he reaches out to squeeze Nate’s shoulder for a long moment before he drops his hand and reaches out for Steve’s hand, glad when the man reaches back and squeezes his fingers. Nate leads the way into the hospital and Bucky takes the moment to look over at Steve, smiling at the man as he notices the sparkle of happiness in his eyes. 

 

Nate sneaks them past the nurse’s station, which really means he walks them by without making eye contact, and he hesitates outside of the door that Bucky assumes is Brad’s. “Ray’s probably going to cry when he sees you guys,” Nate warns, and Bucky shrugs, seeing Steve do the same out of the corner of his eye. With that he opens the door and says to the room at large, “Look who I found skulking about the hotel.”

 

Nate’s kind of right, Bucky thinks as he’s pulled into a tight hug from Ray, the other man sniffling against his shoulder before he pulls back and smacks his arm. “You’re not supposed to be flying so close to your surgery,” Ray says, and he looks angry as he does, “This could set back your healing.”

 

“We talked to Doctor Stark before we flew, Ray,” Steve says as he pulls him into a hug, muffling his complaints against his shoulder as he does, “The doctor said he was good to fly, but that it may cause a bit of excess swelling, so we brought ibuprofen for that and we’re here because we couldn’t _not_ be here.”

 

Bucky goes over to the bed and squeezes Brad’s shoulder gently, careful of the bruising that he’s sure covers his entire body. “Glad to see you’re awake, loser,” he says lightly, and Brad lets out a laugh which sounds like it’s being forced out of him. 

 

“Glad to be awake,” Brad says, and Bucky can tell he’s in pain just by looking at him, “Glad you guys are here too, Nate and Ray are driving me crazy so maybe you can take care of them, hmm?” 

 

Bucky can tell Brad is joking from the look in his eyes and the way that his gaze hangs on Ray, who is introducing Steve to Brad’s parents. “You know we love you, right?” He says as he lets his gaze drift across the visible bandages, “But if you ever do this again I will kill you myself.”

 

“I second that,” Steve says as he steps up next to the bed, opening the bag that he’s had slung over his shoulder since they got out of the car. “These are for you to borrow, not have because they’re mine, but I figured some reading material would be good to have—” Steve’s still talking as Bucky backs away from the bed, throwing one last smile at Brad as he lets himself be introduced to Brad’s parents by Ray. 

 

“Bucky, this is Emily and Jacob, the people that did too good a job raising Brad. Parents, this is Bucky, my best friend and also the dude that’s going to be getting a sick ass robot arm,” Ray introduces, and Bucky laughs as he shakes both of their hands. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ray and Brad have spoken a lot about you and Steve, it’s nice to be able to put a face to the name,” Emily greets, and she pulls him into a hug from the handshake, and Bucky should have known it was coming but he still tense slightly before he hugs her back, mentally rolling his eyes at himself. 

 

“If you don’t mind, how did you lose your arm?” Jacob asks, and Bucky shrugs as Emily ends the hug to smack her husband’s arm. 

 

“I don’t mind, it’s the usual question I get. I was uh, on the turret when the Humvee I was in hit an IED, I was too close to the blast, got thrown out and long story short they had to cut it off because it was gangrenous. The land of sand and dirt isn’t the best place to get an injury,” Bucky answers, and he gives them more detail than he normally would because he feels they deserve it, because their son is lying in bed for the same reasons he’s standing in front of them with one arm. 

 

Bucky chats with Emily and Jacob a bit more, about their flight and what hotel they’re staying in, as Ray leaves them to it. Emily and Jacob excuse themselves because it’s their turn to take a break, and Jacob gets the keys from Nate before the two of them kiss Brad’s forehead and head out of the room, leaving the friends all alone around Brad’s bed. 

 

“I am going to sit in this chair,” Ray says, dropping into said chair and scooting it as close as he can get it to the bed, “And I am going to sleep next to my boyfriend, with my sunglasses on, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me.” He reaches down and pulls his big, ugly, gold pimp sunglasses out of the bag at the end of Brad’s bed, sliding the sunglasses on as he shifts in the chair, trying to get comfortable. 

 

“Those are still the ugliest sunglasses I’ve ever seen,” Bucky insists, and everyone laughs as Ray flips him off. 

 

“And I still have both my fuckin’ arms,” Ray says in an echo of the first time they met, and Bucky grins at him because _he gets it_. 

 

Bucky feels warm, and happy, because even though he’s in the hospital with one of his friends injured and on the mend, he’s surrounded by people that he loves, that love him back, and he’s amazed to find that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here.


End file.
